The Road to Hell
by seagate
Summary: War is hell and the aftermath is even more so, Harry and allies have just come through a recent war and have to now deal with the consequences. In attempting to deal with the consequences Harry finds himself in a world of ice and fire, and now he has a whole new set of problems to face.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Yes it is a new story, I know, I am terrible I should update or finish my others first. Unfortunately though I have been really busy and not been able to gather the enthusiasm to finish those chapters. I will try though to get them done sooner than later though, work permitting.**

 **But anyway here we go, I have recently been watching game of thrones and been reading a few crossovers and have really got into it. So when you combine that with me wanting to do a Harry Potter fic for a while now, we get a crossover. This crossover was heavily inspired by another crossover fanfic I read called Dragon's Fire, which was originally written by Jackalope89 but was then adopted by Exmongum (I was given permission). This fic will be mainly Harry Potter/Game of Thrones, but there will be hints of Skyrim in there as I think that the Skyrim world and the Game of Thrones world have so many similarities that it is almost perfect for crossingover.**

 **Without further ado here is the first chapter, please enjoy the chapter, you might see some very small similarities to Kathryn518's fic I'm still here (1** **st** **chapter) at the very beginning and you would be right I asked permission, but those are the only very small similarities.**

 **Please enjoy.**

 **Chapter 1**

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

 **Chapter 1**

He felt the shattered remnants of the tarmac road crunch underneath his booted feet as he slowly made his way down the dimly lit street. Thankfully, his feet made no sound as he walked; the battered black dragon-hide boots he wore having been enchanted with silencing runes along with many other enchantments, which muffled the sounds his footsteps made, and muted the sounds of the loose rubble under his feet. Those boots took forever to get spelled since dragonhide was a highly spell-resistant material. Around his shoulders, he wore a tattered and stained basilisk-hide overcoat that must once have been a dark green color but had since been stained and patched over time to the point at which it was almost unrecognizable. Beneath his heavy overcoat was a battered and scarred red dragon-hide cuirass; the body armor had many faint runes carved into the material, each fulfilling a different purpose, like runes for strength, vitality, weightlessness, durability, and resistance. Roughly bolted on the once beautiful armor were thin plates of goblin-made steel, placed to cover vital areas on the human body and to offer extra protection from spell fire. From the waist down, he was again dressed in battered armored dragon-hide; again enchanted with runic protections and plates of goblin-forged steel over black dragonhide trousers.

His faintly glowing green eyes, dashed with flecks of red, moved over each building as he walked down the street. His observant gaze taking in each and every detail of the surrounding area as he passed. His vibrant eyes glinted and his features were plain; neither incredibly handsome nor incredibly ugly. The only thing that marked him as unique were his eyes that seemed to swim with power but were otherwise emotionless. Despite that, however, the patchy unshaven stubble that was on his grimy and tired looking face showed how exhausted he was.

The tired and scruffy looking man was one Harry Potter and at this moment he was cautiously traveling down the dilapidated street with a wand in his left hand, slowly and casually twirling it in his fingers, as he made his way down Diagon Alley. Just over a decade ago this had been a bustling hub of shops and shoppers. Now, as he looked around at his surroundings it looked more like a ghost town.

Literally.

He could see the hazy forms of ghosts in some of the burnt-out husks of the buildings that still remained. The magic that had once sustained the charms that kept London's muggles from noticing Diagon Alley had long since faded, unable to sustain itself due to the destroyed ward stones. Not that it really mattered, as the rest of London didn't look better than the empty husk that Diagon Alley had become. The same could be said for the rest of the world: it had all gone to shit.

His eye flitted over the various stores he remembered. There was Ollivander's wand shop, destroyed by Voldemort early on the Second Wizarding War. Harry idly remembered the man's silver-eyed stare that seemed to pierce straight through him when he had gone to get his first wand. He could still remember the confusion and incomprehension he had felt when Ollivander had first told him that the wand that had chosen him was the brother of the wand that gave him his scar. It was such a shame that destroying his first wand in one of the rituals he had done many years ago. A ritual he and his remaining allies had all gone through, which shattered a person's treasured first wand and infused the pieces into the bones in the person's forearm. The cost was the agony of the ritual and the loss of a treasured possession. The reward, however, was the ability to use wandless magic with the hand and arm that one did the ritual on. It had been very beneficial in the war as a wizard or witch could never be disarmed and so would never be powerless. No doubt it was the reason so many of Harry's allies who did the ritual have survived as long as they did.

Continuing on down the Alley, his eyes moved over the other stores, broken down and empty, its residents having long since been killed or fled, most probably killed. It was the same everywhere the world over or at least that was what he had heard as he and his allies' information network, decimated during the wars of the last decade, had left them half-blind to many of the goings on.

He shook his head, freeing his mind from the memories of those figurative ghosts. They didn't matter anymore either.

Harry could feel several magical presences somewhere ahead of him. It was coming from the general direction of the site of the former Ministry of Magic. Unsurprisingly, he couldn't sense anyone he didn't recognize in the vicinity, not surprising considering that there were probably no more than two thousand people, muggle or magical, left in the entirety of Britain. The war truly was both terrible and devastating for all sides.

A frown crossed Harry's grimy face as he continued on down the street. He wondered what the hell they were doing here in London in the first place. There was nothing left except the rubble of the giant buildings that had once stood there proudly. He could still remember when London had literally shattered: the muggle nuclear bombs discriminated between no one, destroying anything in the way. Not even the powerful wards covering Diagon Alley could survive the bomb's destructive power due to the wards not been tailored to stopping that amount of power or radiation. Of course, the same could also be said about Fiendfyre which was used in London and in many other cities and battlefields across the globe, destroying anything it touched.

Again, he wondered what was so important that it brought them all here, out of their safe houses. There was nothing left of value in London; it having been picked clean many times already. It truly made no sense that the information he had received had led him here was not very specific on the reasons why. He would have thought that this would be a trap if it weren't for the fact there was barely anyone strong enough or stupid enough to try.

This whole thing had started when Harry was just fourteen. Voldemort's servants had captured him and used him in a ritual to revive their master. The fully alive and empowered Voldemort had then gone on to declare the beginning to the second British Wizarding War. Not that the war stayed just in Britain for very long as this war was so much worse than the first one or any other war that had come before it. It had not only drawn in the entire wizarding world but the muggle world as well. There were no neutral sides or countries. It was bedlam: everyone attacking everyone; no-one was safe. It was, in a single word, chaos. The conflict drew anyone or anything whether they had magic or not. It had engulfed the entire world and had long since been known that there were no winners: everyone had lost something in this war and now the world was little more than a barren wasteland, scarred by massively powerful magic attacks and the muggles nuclear missiles, barely able to support the few remaining people who survived. Everything was now toxic and deadly from the water in the earth to the very air people breathed.

As Harry he walked into the empty Ministry building, he could not help but remember how Cornelius Fudge, then Minister of Magic, who previously loudly and repeatedly claimed that Voldemort hadn't returned, going so far as to vilify Harry and Dumbledore and anyone else who sided with them, was strung up and crucified in the atrium of the Ministry. As he walked through the once majestic atrium, Harry could see nothing but rubble and charred skeletons, most probably the remnants of both the bombing and destruction of London or the bloody coup that Voldemort had orchestrated that led to him taking over the entire Ministry in a single day. Fortunately, he was driven out two days later before he can consolidate his control and rule unopposed.

Not that Dumbledore and his forces did any real damage to Voldemort and his Death Eaters due mostly to their refusal to kill their enemies but instead locked them up. Most of the Death Eaters that Dumbledore and the Aurors fought were merely captured and shipped off to Azkaban. Voldemort promptly freed them after being incarcerated less than seventy-two hours before once more to reign havoc.

Soon after the battle at the Ministry and its release of all captured Death Eaters, both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade became victims of the war, with hundreds of Death Eaters, civilians, and Aurors being killed. This soon spread as muggles began getting caught up in the middle resulting in the magical world's existence being brought to light through the internet and social media. This notified the general populace, who like the stupid sheep they were, taking matters into their own hands; leading to chaos, death, and, now, the borderline extinction of the human race.

By that point, the International Confederation of Wizards had tried to blockade the entire island of Britain both magical and muggle, hoping to contain Voldemort and his strengthening army of Death Eaters. It was foolish as the news of the magical world had spread and the muggles had swiftly taken up arms and began attacking anything that maybe magical. The panic and fear were so great that the different countries' respective governments could not mediate the situation. Soon, there was war and chaos all over the world as missiles were launched by overly zealous soldiers and radical politicians, religious fanatics and scared muggles hunted down and burned anything they deemed as magical.

In Britain, the Dark Lord had responded to the attempted blockade by amassing all his followers including Death Eaters, giants, werewolves, hags and vampires before breaking the blockade and assaulting the ICW Headquarters in France. However, that was not the worst part. No, the worst part was the added help Voldemort had acquired. He had summoned demons to this realm: large pale-skinned demons that devoured most magic and wielded fel powers that slew countless people.

No one had done that for centuries and even the knowledge of summoning them had been lost to the ages. Yet somehow, Voldemort had found out how. The practice was banned due to the danger involved not only to one's self and one's soul but to the world. No one could understand how he could have done such a thing because it seemed that he didn't just summoned a demon, instead he created a temporary portal that summoned thousands of demons. And due to the fact that the knowledge was lost, not only did no one, Voldemort included, know how to control or subjugate the demons, no one knew how to effectively fight them either. Wizards were like lambs to slaughter and muggles . . . Muggles were even more unfortunate.

It was during the battle at the ICW Headquarter and amidst the slaughter caused by the demon, Voldemort had out-duelled and killed Dumbledore before fleeing with his remaining followers, the portal destabilizing and closing as he left. Not before it had released thousands of powerful, bloodthirsty demons into the world that had soon spread out, hunting down and killing anything with a pulse.

Then Voldemort, in trying to find sanctuary from the hell that he had unleashed, attacked Hogwarts. The last remaining stronghold in all of Europe, the place where the last of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix and many other remaining witches and wizards, dwelled, including Harry. Harry had watched as Voldemort attacked the school with the remnants of his army and fought on the frontlines as the Dark Lord threw everything he had against the wards of Hogwarts, shattering them with the sheer force of his magic that had been boosted by his use of the Elder Wand that he had taken from Dumbledore's corpse after defeating him.

With the wards destroyed, the battle for Hogwarts was surprisingly quick as Voldemort led his entire army in a single huge assault. The battle that followed led to the death of nearly all the defenders of Hogwarts as well as a great number of Voldemort's army. During the end of the battle, when their loss was clear for all to see, Harry and several dozen friends escaped out of the secret passages in the school not before he had summoned as much Fiendfyre as he could conjure and released it into Hogwarts as the last act of selfish defiance against Voldemort. It had worked as it killed Voldemort and his remaining Death Eaters gruesomely, he might add, and had also destroyed the last great sanctuary of Britain, leaving it a ruined shell of its former self.

Demons, who were still rampaging across the world, seemed naturally drawn to powerful magic. They hunted down all living things but were especially attracted to magical beings: be they goblins, veela, wizards, or centaurs. This meant that the demons would hunt down and attack Harry and his allies, which constantly kept them on the run, using guerrilla warfare on the pursuing demons or overwhelming power and destruction on any enemy they came across be they magical or muggle. Harry and his allies used this time on the run to hone their skills in magic and battle using the many grimoires and books he had taken from Dumbledore's extensive personal library on many rare and powerful magics both dark and light. He had also taken the sword of Gryffindor; the Sorting Hat; the Gaunt family ring, which Harry later learned from Dumbledore's Grimoire was an ancient mystical item known as the Stone of Resurrection. When combined with the Cloak of Invisibility, which was apparently the Potter family cloak; and the Elder Wand, which Dumbledore owned before Voldemort took it; would make the wielder the Master of Death. It was, therefore, a pity when Fiendfyre destroyed the Elder Wand back at Hogwarts.

The goblins, who before the attack on the ICW had attempted to stay neutral in the conflict, hid from the war in their underground cities, were also set upon by demons, the vast hordes of gold and magical items kept beneath Gringotts drawing them like moths to a flame. The goblins, being a proud race and unwilling to give up their wealth or their lives, had sent out their forces to attack Voldemort's demons viciously, uncaring of any collateral damage their actions may cause to magicals and muggles. It turns out that the goblins, being the little fuckers they were, had knowledge on how to defeat demons. Although the demons could be affected by magic, they could not be killed by it. Instead, it was physical weapons imbued with magic that could kill them. Unlike wizards, goblins were adept at physical combat and their magical weapons were very effective in cutting down the demonic forces.

The goblins' war on the demons lasted two years before they were able to wipe out a great many of them. Their losses though had been significant as the killing of more than ninety-five percent of the goblin race in the many battles that took place across the world against the rampaging pale-skinned demons. Harry and his friends had taken part in many of the battles the goblins fought against the demons in return for magical weapons, armor, or the goblins' magical secrets. Over the course of the two years of assisting the goblins, Harry and his allies had managed to learn a lot about magic and how to use it in combat to the best effect, something that they had needed to know by necessity in order to survive in the harsh world at war they found themselves in.

Other surviving wizards and witches had, of course, been busy. Some had attempted to take over all the vaults in Gringotts. No doubt hoping to steal enough gold and magical weaponry to survive and probably carve out their own little kingdom in the ashes of the old world, only to find that the goblins had magically sealed off the tunnels with goblin blood-wards and seemingly collapsed them when they left for war. That meant not only were the scavengers unable to reach any of the wealth in there, some had met grisly ends in the underground tunnels.

Harry remembered exploring those same tunnels and vaults later on with Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Fred and George Weasley, his closest living friends and allies, along with a couple of his remaining goblin acquaintances. They practiced their ward and curse breaking under the goblins' supervision, breaking into now abandoned vaults. In a rare moment of leisure, they had even taken the time to find some of the Death Eater vaults and pack huge amounts of their gold into multi-compartmented trunks. They took great pleasure in doing so as they broke into the Lestrange, the Carrow, and the Malfoy vaults.

At the moment, gold was relatively useless since there was no economy but they had liked to joke that when the war was over, they would be so phenomenally rich that they would be able to live out the rest of their lives in leisure. Unfortunately, it never came true. By the time the war ended, the gold was worthless and life was a constant struggle.

Harry wore an unbreakable necklace on which a shrunken trunk with two large magically expanded internal compartments filled with all that gold. He didn't need the gold for any purpose, he just didn't need the space in the trunk for anything else really. Now, it was just another memento. Like his parents' photo-album that Hagrid had gotten him, or the pieces of his first Firebolt, the one Sirius had gotten him. Harry had another broom stored in there but he no longer really needed it to fly, having learned how to fly unaided from Dumbledore's spell books. Not that flying unaided gave him the rush using a broom did. His lover, Susan Bones, had learned how to fly unaided. Not that it was very useful for her as she had died only months after having learned how, killed by a stray bullet from an ambush led by muggles. No doubt wanting to take whatever they could and run. The muggles had all died, horribly, but they managed to kill one member of Harry's group.

On that last thought, Harry quashed his memories of the past as he walked. There was no point dwelling on those events that were long gone and with the Department of Mysteries destroyed, he would not be able to turn back time. He returned his focus to the here and now. He had a meeting to attend after all. With that, Harry continued on walking down the stairs that led to the Department of Mysteries, the fancy elevators used by the Ministry having been destroyed. As he continued his journey, his mind wandered again: the constant conflicts with Voldemort, muggles, and his other enemies had taken its toll on his health. Not so much his physical health but his mental health. One could only go through so much pain, hatred, and loss before one snapped. Now, while Harry wouldn't say he was insane, he was still quite unhinged and had a questionable morality.

His body had been mostly protected from any significant damage due, in part, to the many rituals and experiments he had undergone in his search of power during the war. The runes that covered a large part of the dragon-hide armor he wore also helped with regards to protecting him from permanent damage. Studying runes and integrating them into his body and armor had been a long and painful but necessary process. It was something he learned from Dumbledore's books and the goblins back when he was fighting the demon hordes, and something he had carried on ever since. His friends had also performed some rituals but not as many as Harry had: runes to strengthen his armor for protection; to make his armor resistant to fire, water, lightning, etc.; and for nearly anything and everything he could think of. The subject of runes was truly boundless and something he had become incredibly talented in. The branding of the rune on dragon skin had consumed most of his time, but it was the powering of the rune from his magical core that hurt. Each time he had to power a rune for a permanent basis and affixed to his armor, it was like volunteering for the Cruciatus Curse and had left him magically exhausted for days after as his magical core expanded and adjusted to each new drain on it. It had been when he was working with Daphne that he had done his best work in runes, truly pushing beyond anything modern-day wizards could have ever thought possible. They never got to explore all the ideas they had, time being limited during the war due to the fighting, and they were busy doing other things after the war. Harry organized and lead the group of survivors that followed him, calling themselves the Order of the Dragon, both to show their respect for the original order's premise but also to show that they would not be as peaceful or Light-obsessed. Instead, they would be as passionate and dangerous as a dragon. Daphne, however, had been doing other work, looking for a way to improve the world they live in or make it more habitable. Harry wasn't sure as she was being quite tight-lipped about it.

Spreading out his senses, he could tell he was getting closer to the meeting place as he could sense twenty-four magical signatures ahead: the entire Order had gathered and he was the last. Glancing up, he saw a ghostly white owl fly overhead. It was Hedwig, his familiar, who had survived the entire war and had become almost a pseudo look-out for him and the Order. However, she gave no warning or sign that there was anyone but the rest of the Order ahead of himself. Making certain, he began stretching his senses out warily for any muggles or rogue wizards or witches that had prepared an ambush, it would be a stupid thing to do, but these were dangerous times and Harry was quite paranoid.

As he walked through the dilapidated halls of the Ministry, heading to the chamber that held the Veil of Death. Why they were meeting here though he didn't know. As he arrived, he saw that Order were standing around a rune-engraved stone archway talking quietly among themselves in huddles with each member wearing a cloak or armor. Representing every members of almost every sentient race in the twenty-five member of the Order of the Dragon and those who were under the Order's protection: their sixteen witches and wizards present, three Goblins, two veela, a vampire, a centaur, and a half giant. These members included the Weasley twins, who were the last of their family; Neville Longbottom; Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, the last of their family also; the two Delacour sisters, the only known Veela left alive; Hagrid, the not-so-gentle half-giant; Firenze the chieftain of the last forty centaurs in Europe, if not the world; Ragnar the goblin king, who leads the one hundred and fifty remaining goblins in Europe that had not fled or died; and a vampire by the name of Serena. There were, of course, those under the Order's protection hiding in safehouses dotted around Britain.

They were all standing around the Veil itself, which was surrounded by an intricate circle of glowing crimson runes.

"Friends," Harry called out as he walked into the crumbling room and began to make his way down the steps to meet the rest at the bottom. "Why the fuck are we meeting here of all places?"

"Just as charming as ever I see, Harry," Neville Longbottom responded loudly, stepping out of the group to greet him. Neville was a large man, having grown from a chubby little kid into a hulking man over six feet tall and covered in muscle. To add to his size, he was clad in battle-scarred, goblin-forged silver plate armor. A magnificent piece of workmanship, though he had covered most of it up with a black cloak to stop the armor from drawing too much attention to himself. The armor and size aside, Neville hadn't changed much. He was still friendly and loyal, but is now tempered by a hardness and ruthlessness that he saved only for his enemies.

"As for why we're here, my friend, I'm not sure myself. Daphne called the Order meeting, said something about a new hope or something like that," Neville continued as he met Harry at the bottom of the steps and pulled him in for a hug.

"Sounds cryptic and very Daphne-like. Glad to see something hasn't change," Harry replied as he walked into the group of his allies. "Fleur and Gabrielle, looking as ravishing as ever I see."

"Oui, 'Arry, and you are just as ugly as ever, non?" was the response he got as Fleur tossed her waist-length hair over her shoulder, before giving him a gentle smile, "But seriously, 'Arry, you should stay in touch more. We 'ave not seen you for weeks."

Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle, a tall and elegant beauty herself almost identical to Fleur save for having her hair cropped short, crashed into Harry as she wrapped her long arms around him and laid a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Harry, thank God you're here, I was getting so bored."

"Good to see you too, Gabby," Harry replied as he gave her a brief hug and gave her sister one as well before he went on to talk to the rest of the members of the Order. He had been away from the Order's safehouse for a few weeks looking for any survivors who had not gone mad or were worth saving. Unfortunately, he had come up short with the few people he had come across that had to be put down, most having been driven mad by radiation poisoning.

"Hiya, Harry. Did you bring any more survivors in or was it like the last time?" Hagrid called ou, walking over. Hagrid had changed a lot over the years as he had lost some of the warmth he was known for and had become harder and colder. He could still be himself around those close to him, but around others, he was not so friendly. This was one of the reason the Order had him looking after the magical animals they had been able to save as they didn't want him scaring or hurting any of the new people.

"No, there is no one left out there anymore," Harry replied sadly before he was once again embraced by the ever eager Gabrielle as she attempted to comfort him.

"When you have quite finished flirting, now that you have finally arrived, we can start," Daphne's clipped voice called out. A stunning woman with golden blond hair and icy blue eyes. She had high cheekbones and an almost haunting beauty about her. She was wearing black dragonhide armor, which, like Harry's, were covered in glowing runes and at her side was a goblin-forged rapier, a deadly looking blade that seemed to suit her to a tee. "Well, everyone, gather 'round. I didn't call you here for just a social gathering. I have news and it's good."

"Well, get on with it then. It's bloody cold in this wasteland," Blaise Zabini growled as he took a step forward, drawing attention to himself. Blaise was a mess: he was wearing a carved black metal mask in the shape of his own face, which he wore to cover a wound that had melted most of his face with a dark spell until it looked barely human. Alongside this, he was missing his left hand, which he had replaced with a blade. He had, understandably, become bitter and harsh due to this and was less than pleasant company. Deadly as all hell though. "Hurry the fuck up."

"Patience is a virtue, Blaise. You should know that by now," Daphne coldly sniped, a scowl gracing her features at his harshness. However, upon Harry's cough and the pointed look, she decided to drop it and continue. "I have found a way for us to escape this dying world using the Veil. Through several experiments, I have found that the Veil does not lead to death or the Void as the Unspeakable said. Instead, it connects to another world. My hypothesis is that at some point either someone on our world or someone on theirs created the Veil as a bridge between the two worlds and the archway is the physical representation of that bridge. With several tests, I have found that we can safely travel through the Veil to the other side without adverse effect. Unfortunately though, the gateway on the other side is underwater, which means we would have to find a way to travel underwater and use that before we go through. Otherwise, we'll quickly drown upon reaching the other side."

As Daphne finished her explanation, she got many surprised and skeptical looks from the rest of the Order. Before anyone else could speak up, Harry took a step towards her asking, "If this gate was created by the people on the other side, why is it underwater? And how do you know that this new world is habitable?"

"No doubt the land on the other archway may have sunk beneath the sea at some point. The archway here is thousands of years old and with it being all the way down nearly a mile under street level. As for whether it is habitable, the water is clean of either contamination or pollution, more so than this world back before the war. There were also clear signs of human life, ancient buildings submerged underwater and a few sunken ships. Enough signs that I'm confident we will find land that's clean and habitable," Daphne promptly replied, which had the rest of the Order muttering between themselves.

"If we were to go through, how would we do it? We might be able to salvage one of those muggle submarines, but then we would have no clue how to actually use it. I'm not sure about you, but I want to get off this dying rock as quickly as possible," Neville spoke as he scratches his scruffy brown beard thoughtfully.

"I 'ave an idea. What about zat ship zat Durmstrang used when zey came to 'Ogwarts? Ze one zat traveled underwater. Could we not recreate zat? After all between us we 'ave many talented magic users," Fleur asked as she thought back to the Triwizard Tournament all those years ago.

"I also had the same idea as Fleur and have already started the plans for the ship, making sure it is large enough to fit the entire Order: the 323 wizards and witches we are sheltering, the 150 or so goblins we have allied with; the eighty odd centaurs and the magical creatures we have managed to save. Even with multiple expansion charms, it'll be one massive ship and will be heavily armed and protected as we have no clue whether the people in the other world will be hostile," Daphne replied, voicing her support on Fleur's idea she once again drew the Order's attention.

"If we do this, can we fit the ship through the Veil? I'm not sure about you but the archway doesn't look that big to me," Fred Weasley asked with his twin brother, George, nodding along with him. The Weasley twins haven't really changed much physically over the course of the war but has become a lot more serious, especially after having lost all of their family to either muggles or Voldemort's forces.

"That's simple, Freddy boy. Those red runes around the archway are what will make it possible. What they do is expand the portal of the archway to whatever size you want. It's actually a complicated piece of work. I'm impressed, Daph, your runecrafting has improved," Harry replied as he crouched down and looked at the glowing red runes that surrounded the archway before he turned to look at Daphne with a smirk.

"Shush, you. My work has always been good," Daphne responded giving Harry a faint smile before she turned to the rest of the group, "He might be a tool but Harry is right. Anyway, from my estimates, it'll probably take at least a month to finish the ship and organize our people. If we're all agreed on this course of action, we can get down to it and hopefully we'll be off this barren piece of rock in a month or so."

"Fuck, yeah!" Dean Thomas shouted, an action which many members of the Order echoed as they all started shouting and cheering. Although the plan wasn't finalized it was still a plan, a hope that the Order had long been without.

"So, I take it we're all in favor of the plan? Does that include you Firenze, Ragnar?" Harry asked the goblin king and the chief of the centaur.

"I will have to take it to my people, but I can say I am in favor of this idea. It has been too long since we have had any hope for a better future and if leaving this world is what is needed, it is a risk I am willing to take," Ragnar replied, his long fingers clasped in front of him, as his pointed face twisted into a cruel smile, "Besides what could be better for a warrior race like our own than a new world to make our mark."

As Ragnar finished all the members laughed and cheered having long since grown used to the goblins' personalities. The other two goblins in the Order also nodded along with Ragnar in agreement.

As the cheering died down, Harry turned to look at Firenze, the blonde centaur who stood bare-chested, his white horse body gleaming in the dim light of the Chamber of Death. "I shall take it to the rest of the herd but I have no doubt that they will accept the plan. The forest and wilds of this world have died. There is nothing for us here anymore, only death. A new world represents a new opportunity for my people: an opportunity we would be fools to miss, but still, I must ask and no doubt several of us must consult the stars and find the right path."

"Hah!" Harry snorted good-naturedly, chuckling, "Trust you centaurs, eh? Always looking to the stars."

"Indeed, but it is how we are and would you have us any other way?" Firenze laughed softly as he ran his hand through his thick blond hair, his tired facing turning up into a smile.

"All right then, we have a plan. If it's accepted, then we go through the Veil in a month. We create a ship that will allow us to travel through the water both under and over with additions which we can use to protect ourselves and secure our place in this new world!" Harry called out as he walked up several stairs so that he was standing slightly higher than the rest of the Order. "Are we agreed?"

"Aye!"

"Yeah!"

"Hell, yes!"

"Why not?"

"Best option so far."

"It's decided then," Harry smirked as he looked at all his friends and allies and saw the hope and excitement on many of their faces, emotions that they had not shown for a long time. Upon meeting Daphne's eyes, Harry's smirk becoming slightly more gentle before he continued, "So it begins!"

 **AN: I hope people enjoyed the chapter, I was hoping to do something original or sort of original for a HP/GOF crossover whether or not I have succeeded I don't know. Depending on how popular this is I may update it faster than my other stories. But I won't foret about them and will start working and finishing off the next chapters, the next update should by Ten Tailed Wolf.**

 **This chapter has been betaed by Foxmac.**

 **See you all next time.**

 **Seagate.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: There has been a nice response so far, so I thought I would put another chapter out.**

 **( - )**

 **(Last Time)**

 _"So, I take it we're all in favor of the plan? Does that include you Firenze, Ragnar?" Harry asked the goblin king and the chief of the centaur._

 _"I will have to take it to my people, but I can say I am in favor of this idea. It has been too long since we have had any hope for a better future and if leaving this world is what is needed, it is a risk I am willing to take," Ragnar replied, his long fingers clasped in front of him, as his pointed face twisted into a cruel smile, "Besides what could be better for a warrior race like our own than a new world to make our mark."_

 _As Ragnar finished all the members laughed and cheered having long since grown used to the goblins' personalities. The other two goblins in the Order also nodded along with Ragnar in agreement._

 _As the cheering died down, Harry turned to look at Firenze, the blonde centaur who stood bare-chested, his white horse body gleaming in the dim light of the Chamber of Death. "I shall take it to the rest of the herd but I have no doubt that they will accept the plan. The forest and wilds of this world have died. There is nothing for us here anymore, only death. A new world represents a new opportunity for my people: an opportunity we would be fools to miss, but still, I must ask and no doubt several of us must consult the stars and find the right path."_

 _"Hah!" Harry snorted good-naturedly, chuckling, "Trust you centaurs, eh? Always looking to the stars."_

 _"Indeed, but it is how we are and would you have us any other way?" Firenze laughed softly as he ran his hand through his thick blond hair, his tired facing turning up into a smile._

 _"All right then, we have a plan. If it's accepted, then we go through the Veil in a month. We create a ship that will allow us to travel through the water both under and over with additions which we can use to protect ourselves and secure our place in this new world!" Harry called out as he walked up several stairs so that he was standing slightly higher than the rest of the Order. "Are we agreed?"_

 _"Aye!"_

 _"Yeah!"_

 _"Hell, yes!"_

 _"Why not?"_

 _"Best option so far."_

 _"It's decided then," Harry smirked as he looked at all his friends and allies and saw the hope and excitement on many of their faces, emotions that they had not shown for a long time. Upon meeting Daphne's eyes, Harry's smirk becoming slightly more gentle before he continued, "So it begins!"_

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 2**

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

It had been over a month since Harry and the rest of the Order had agreed on the bold plan, to build a ship and transport the Order and all their allies through a portal called the Veil of Death and into some unknown world. In Harry's opinion when the plan was set out like that it seemed somewhat surreal, insane almost. But it had happened and it was agreed upon, both the goblins and the centaurs agreed with the plan wholeheartedly, although after several nights of star gazing from some of the centaur elders.

Things had gone on at a quick pace since then, everyone was busy and everyone had their own duties to do. Daphne and the Weasley twins had been put in charge of the creation of the ship, along with the aid of two dozen other witches and wizards. These were part of a large group who were under the Order's protection and had spent most of the last few years being shuttled from safe house to safe house, aiding the war effort how they could whether it be healing or other such support. Also, working alongside the shipbuilding team was several dozen Goblin's, these were Goblin's who excelled in crafting, enchanting and blacksmithing and who had been lending their aid in the construction and defense of the ship.

Neville had been also given a team of a couple of dozen witches and wizards, whose responsibility it was to collect as many clippings, seeds and samples as they could from magical plants and ingredients and do so as quickly as possible. The reason being that the Order hoped to cultivate these samples and clippings and grow them in this new world, otherwise it would make the entire subject of potions useless. Not that it bothered Harry personally after all he had never liked potions though that was mainly due to Snape, however, other less biased members of the Order had insisted. For good reason too as there were many benefits to potions, the art itself is almost as boundless as Harry's specialty runes.

Hagrid had of course with the assistance of the centaurs been given the job of transporting the magical creatures that the Order had to the ministry building, as well as finding a way for them to be safely and humanely stored away on the ship. These creatures were quite varied, there were five unicorns, several dozen nifflers, a small herd of thestrals, an even smaller herd of hippogriffs, unfortunately, a dozen blast ended skrewts, Fluffy the cerberus, a sphinx and most surprisingly two full-grown dragons and two dragon eggs. One of the dragons they had gotten from the goblins was a large and slightly battered male dragon, that they had named Patch for its patchy hide. The dragon had been under the care of Hagrid for several years now and was thoroughly pampered by the half-giant, though the dragon still hated goblins with a passion. The other dragon was Norbert, a female Norwegian Ridgeback that Hagrid had hatched in Harry's first year, and that he had retrieved along with the two under stasis dragon eggs from Charlie Weasley four years ago. The older Weasley's last act as he was killed by a muggle explosive a few weeks later.

Suffice to say Hagrid had his hands full and had been running around with the centaurs trying to herd them all up. Whilst also preparing sleeping drafts for the creatures to take whilst on the ship.

As for the rest, they all had odd jobs to do, some were to hunt down and secure as many spell books and grimoires as they could, preferably ones that cover every aspect of magic. This was met with reasonable success as the Order had many such things already, these having been taken from Gringotts' vaults, Pureblood family libraries or Hogwarts. Others were getting together as many artifacts or other miscellaneous items as they could, anything that may be of use to where they were going was collected and stored in hundreds of expandable trunks. This included several hundred unused wands that had been collected from fallen wizards both light and dark or salvaged from wand shops or old family vaults.

Others had been set to guard the broken shell of the Ministry, setting up multiple wards and patrolling regularly, always wary of any potential attack. After all, they were not the only ones to survive the war, no there were much nastier and viler things out in the wastelands of what was once Britain.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

"How are we doing, Daph? Is the ship nearly finished?" Harry asked as he strode forward into the chamber of death where the construction was going on. At the moment he could see nothing of what was being built as it was surrounded by scaffolding and had goblins, men, and women swarming all over it. Looking to Daphne once again he took in the sight of her, she was wearing a muggle sports bra, with a simple grey vest and cargo shorts, it was hardly elegant but it didn't have to be they were work clothes. Taking a closer look he could see dark rings around her eyes showing her weariness and could see the trickles of sweat running down her body staining her vest as he approached. But despite this she still had an almost supernatural allure, the glowing light from the torches that lit the chamber, hitting her body and making almost glow.

"Yeah, we are nearly done. The rune work is all finished as is the main body of the vessel. All that is left is finishing off the expansion of the inside and of the storerooms. Other than that we should be good to go, would probably say it will be ready in a day or two," Daphne replied tiredly as she walked up to Harry, running a hand through her slightly damp golden hair as she did so. The last month for her had been tiring, terribly so, she had underestimated the sheer amount of work creating a ship that size would take, even with magic. The enchantments and rune work to were exhausting, as every part had to be engraved and enchanted for maximum effect, which drained her and her team of both their energy and magic.

"Right, a day or two, that should be fine. I will send out some messages on the mirrors alerting the rest of the Order, we all should be nearly finished with our jobs too," Harry replied as he gestured for Daphne to ascend the stair with him and leave the chamber.

Understanding his gesture Daphne turned and shouted a few orders to her subordinates before following Harry. Looking at him she could see he was both stressed and worried, the last month must have been trying for him as well as her. Deciding to speak up again she asked, "How are the rest coming along? Have there been any issues?"

"For the most part well, everything has been going smoothly, save for a bit of trouble with the goblins," Harry responded slowing down a bit so Daphne could walk at his side.

"What trouble?"

"Well, turns out the greedy little shits didn't want to leave this world without making sure they had everything they could possibly get. To that end, they have been leading parties to all the branches of Gringotts they have access to, and raiding the vaults there," Harry replied knuckling his head as he did so. They may be allies with the goblins and on good terms, but despite this, there were still large cultural differences. Differences that made things difficult sometimes.

"I don't see the problem. Surely it is good that the goblins bring as much as they can?" Daphne asked arching an eyebrow as she did so, not quite understanding why this upset Harry so much.

"The problem is, is that they are leading missions undermanned and without consulting the rest of the Order. Not only is it dangerous, but they could also be leading enemies here," Harry replied, thinking of the enemies he mentioned, which were called the Tainted Ones. The reason being that they had been in areas with high concentrations of radiation or dark magic and had done so without magical protection. This had caused many of them to go mad and for some mutate. It turns out that if you mix powerful dark magic with atomic radiation, the results aren't good. Suffice it to say, although there are not many of them around, the few that are, are incredibly dangerous.

"Leave them, Harry. They know what they are doing. Besides the area is heavily secured and we have all been in enough battle to look after ourselves," Daphne said as she took hold of Harry's hand and gently pulled him to a stop. Reaching out with her other hand, she laid it on his cheek, feeling the unshaven bristles brush against her palm. "You worry too much, Harry. It will all be alright. We will leave this world and make a new life for ourselves, a better life."

With that said she brought his head down and laid a soft kiss on his lips before she pulled away. A sultry smile making its way onto her beautiful face, before she turned on her heel and left but not before blowing him another kiss over her shoulder and giving him a wink. "Cheer up, Harry. It may be the end of the world but who gives a fuck."

As the beautiful blonde left, Harry just stood there for a moment his eyes slightly glazed over before he shook his head and carried on walking but not before calling over to the retreating Daphne. "Cheeky minx, you won't get the last laugh."

 **( - )**

 **(With Neville)**

Neville wasn't happy. No, if anything Neville was angry. The reason for his anger was what lay before him: the ancestral home of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom. The place where he grew up, loved and hoped to one day many years from now die in, surrounded by friends and loved ones.

Where once there were rolling acres of vibrant green woodlands, now there were dead trees and fields of ash. Where once the proud manor stood, there was only a broken-down ruin, the wards which once protected it having long since been overwhelmed and destroyed, along with his house and the grounds.

But that was not what angered him. Deep down he had expected this as he had not been here in years, having left to join the war effort. He knew that he would probably never return, or if he did, that there would be nothing to return to. But this . . . This he did not expect before the large armor-clad man and his team of helpers was a sight that was not for the faint of heart.

There were twelve large crosses staked out at the front of the burnt-down house. The crosses were clearly old but they were not what bothered him, it was what was on them. Skeletons some no bigger than children, were nailed to each of the crosses. Twelve of them in total. All of them having been picked clean of flesh by carrion that he could still see the rusted nails that had been used. Behind the crosses were written in faded black paint across what remained of Neville's home were the words, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!" It disgusted Neville, truly it did, that the actions some of the muggles took in this war. This was not the first thing he had seen and each time he saw it a part of him almost started agreeing with the Death Eater's point of view. It was only a small part, however, the greater part knew that there were atrocities like this committed on all sides and that he should not blame the many for the actions of the few, but still . . .

Turning away from the grisly sight, Neville gestured for his team to follow him as he headed in the direction of his family's greenhouses. He had a job to do and he had been putting this off for far too long. Besides, he had just received a message from Harry warning him that the ship would be ready in a day or two and that he would need to hurry up.

So with a sigh, he headed off, quite doubtful that anything survived after all this time, but still he might as well check.

 **( - )**

 **(With Blaise)**

Blaise Zabini was in a word pissed. He and a team of twenty witches and wizards had been assigned to guard duty. For the past month, he had been stuck on patrol around the Chamber of Death. He had asked for two sets of wards to be set up: one a hundred feet out from the Chamber was a proximity ward and the other was supposed to be a dark ward which drained the people who cross it of life. Unfortunately, though, he was not allowed that last ward, with all the people who will be coming to and from the Chamber of Death it wasn't considered viable. Hence, why he was pissed, that ward would have made guard duty a lot easier, it also would have made it a lot more fun if they were attacked.

Another thing that annoyed Blaise was the fact they had remained in such a vulnerable place for so long. Normally, they would either move around or stay in one of the heavily fortified safe-houses that the Order maintained.

Deciding to start his patrol, Blaise stood up from the mound of rubble where he had been sitting. As he did so, he felt the bone-deep ache in his back, despite only being twenty-four, he felt closer to a hundred in terms of physical age. The battles of the last decade had not been kind to him. When he had first gone in to combat for the first time, he had been cocky, he thought due to his duel training it would be easy. He was wrong as in that first battle he lost most of the skin on his right leg to a dark rotting curse and his left hand to a rather nasty cutting curse from a Death Eater Inner Circle member. It was a hard lesson, but one he took to heart.

As Blaise joined his fellow guardsmen, he could not help but sneer as he looked at them. These were the witches and wizards who survived but not through any skill of their own. These people were only alive due to him and the Order of the Dragon. If it was up to him, he would have sent them out onto the front lines to learn how to fight or die, not give them training in one of the safe-houses and hope for the best. But unfortunately it wasn't up to him, it was up to Harry, who was pretty much the leader of the entire Order and all their allies. Now that was not to say he didn't respect Potter because he did, a hell of a lot. He did, however, think Potter was too soft on the refugees under the Order's protection.

"Oi, Smith, report!" Blaise snapped out as he walked up to the sentry brushing some of the dust off of his dragon-hide long coat as he did so.

"O-oh, erm, Blaise, what are you doing here?" Sixteen-year-old Henry Smith stuttered out nervously as a bead of sweat made its way down his face, clearly quite nervous around the grizzled war veteran.

"I asked you for a report not a question, you rancid crotch dropping! I see you have decided to take after your idiot brother Zacharias! When I ask for something you give it, boy!" Blaise snarled at the young lad, the boy's nervousness only exacerbating his irritation.

"O-oh, y-yes. Sorry, sir. Nothing really to report. Dennis, that is Dennis Creevy, is maintaining the ward and he said there has been no movement. So it should be fine," Henry choked out running his hand through his sweaty blond hair as he did so, desperately trying to avoid looking at the black metal mask Zabini wore to cover his facial scars.

"Does your incompetence know no bounds, you sniveling little shit! The Tainted Ones, those scabby fuckers out there who hunt us, some of them were wizards once. They might be bat-shit crazy madmen but that just makes them even more dangerous," Blaise continued to snarl as he rounded on the younger boy. "Do your fucking job, go up those fucking stairs and have a look with your own two eyes."

As the teenage Smith continued to cower, Blaise almost snapped completely and maimed the little shit. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go!"

And with those words ringing in his ears, Henry ran as fast as he could, taking the stairs two at a time in his hurry to get away from Blaise.

Unfortunately, it was only five minutes later that young Henry Smith ran back down those same stairs a look of terror on his face as he ran. "They're coming! They're coming! Everyone run! Everyone ru-"

Was as far as the boy got before he was tackled from behind and land face first onto the stone steps. The boy barely had the chance to scream as he died with a gnarled and clawed hand plunging through his back and ripping out again, trailing with it several of the boy's organs in a fountain of blood.

"Ahh, shit!" Blaise growled out as he looked at the sight, "One of you send a message back to the Chamber: tell them we are under attack! The rest of you form up. High damage and wide area spell only. The fuckers are fast, put them down or we will be overrun!" As Blaise said that more of the Tainted Ones came down the stairs and into view.

They were a hideous sight. Not a single one of them looked the same. The one who killed Henry was a hulking beast, six foot tall and built like a wall. The creature barely looked human anymore with its skin blistered and red, its face looked like it was rotting the skin that had peeled away leaving both the muscle and bone visible. The creature also had long, bloodstained claw-like nails on its hands and feet, but the worst thing about the creature was its eyes. They were a sickly yellow color, full of nothing but rage, madness, and hunger.

With a snarl, the beast charged at Blaise and the dozen or so wizards who were forming up ranks behind him. The creature's mouth was open showing rotten bloodstained teeth as it lunged towards him.

"Bombarda Maxima!" Blaise intoned.

Only to have its top half blasted to pieces by Blaise's spell. Not that the sight stopped its fellows, all of which seemed to sprint down the stairs, charging the line of wizards. These were the Tainted Ones: muggles and wizards that had been exposed to a mixture of potent dark magic and nuclear radiation. Instead of dying, they mutated. Some were far stronger than they were before but had lost all sense of rationality and existed only to kill and eat. While Wizarding Tainted Ones found their power levels increased, but their control was non-existent, which meant that they could power through the toughest of wards and shields but could not cast magic as well as incoherently insane.

"Ready, lads? Then unleash hell!" Blaise roared at his fellow guardsmen as he raised his right hand and prepared his next spell with the veins in his arm glowed orange as the pieces of foci embedded in his arm molded and shaped his magic. Then a blast of orange light shot out of his palm, the light forming a crescent shape before it struck and cut three Tainted Ones in half.

Blaise's dark cutting curse was soon followed by a barrage of other curses including bombardas, confringos, reductos, and cutting curses. The multitude of lights hitting the oncoming horde of creatures and cutting down the first two rows of them.

"Keep firing, you fuckers, we send wave after wave of death at them till you can't send any more. We stop for a second and we will be overrun," Blaise roared as some of the sentries stopped firing to see how much damage their spells did.

At this point, more than twenty Tainted Ones had been put down, but there were still twice as many coming. The wall of spells took down many of them, but it took a directly fatal hit to put them down permanently. So deep was their hunger and rage that the creatures could happily keep on going even if they were missing arms and legs.

"Arghh!" one of the wizard sentries screamed as he went down, a metal pipe protruding from his chest. The pipe having been hurled by one of the oncoming creatures and of the few who still had enough sentience to use tools.

"Don't look at him, you fools! That's how he went down in the first place. Pay attention. If you don't, you will fucking die!" Blaise shouted as he took several steps forward towards the attackers, blasting out high powered spells as he did so. "Come on, lads, we're winning! Keep fighting 'cause if you don't, the Tainted Fuckers will be shitting you out there guts tonight."

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

"Hey, Harry, the ship's finished," Fred Weasley said as he walked forward.

"Yeah, I can see that. You lot did a good job. I'm impressed," Harry replied as he looked upon the finished project that rested on a slight ramp that led to the Veil of Death.

It was a beast of a ship, made in the style of one of the old-fashioned ships of the line. It was one hundred and twenty feet long and almost forty feet wide, had four decks making it very large and very imposing. The ship had seventy-four cannons poking out of the sides, though these were not regular cannons. These were rune cannons, so named because they were powered by runes. These cannons instead of sending out iron balls sent out blasts of pure magic, which thanks to the rune controls can be made explosive, fiery, icy, etc. at the operator's desire. They were pretty damn powerful but they were also very heavy with the etched runes not being compatible with the featherlight charms.

The ship though was entirely wind powered, why that was Harry didn't know. It was probably due to the lack of knowledge on this new world, which meant that if they tried to use a steam engine, they might not be able to get more fuel and transfiguring it was just not a viable option. Therefore, the ship had three masts each with massive billowing sails. On each of these was emblazoned a black dragon, the chosen sigil for the Order of the Dragon.

"When will we be able to depart?" Harry asked as he continued to inspect the massive ship.

"Hmm, probably in an hour. We have everything packed up on board and well secured. Everyone is accounted for except for the sentries," Fred replied as he scratched his chin.

"We might be able to get going sooner. All the checks have been done and there have been no problems. Unfortunately, to get it ready this fast we had to use up the last of the time turners we have. So yeah, no more time travel for us," George said as he walked up to Harry and his twin Fred.

"No matter. There is a good chance that the time turners wouldn't work in this new world. They might be bound to this plane. To be honest, I'm not sure the secret to creating them was never shared and those who knew are dead," Harry replied before turning to the room at large that was full of the assembled Order of the Dragon and all its allies, or at least those who weren't on sentry duty or who weren't already on the ship.

"Prepare yourselves. We cast off in an hour."

"You might want to make that sooner, Harry," Neville said as he walked up, still wearing his Goblin plate armor. "We just had a Patronus message from the sentries. They 're under attack and are tactically retreating. We lost four at the moment."

"Shit! Alright. Pull them back and transfigure the entrance into solid stone. We're leaving now!" Harry replied hurriedly before he turned once again to the room at large. "Get on board. Prepare to open the portal and power up the ship's defenses. We are leaving now!"

 **( - )**

 **AN: Well another chapter done I hope you enjoyed it, I was tempted to prolong the stay on earth, but I didn't want to make it too depressing. If people want I could probably extend this chapter a bit. Or I could just fast forward onto Westeros and the Game of Thrones. I will probably need to have another read through as I do occasionally miss things.**

 **Anyway please review it does tend to encourage me to update more regularly as I am quite lazy.**

 **Update 2018, this chapter has been betaed thanks to my Beta writer Foxmac.**

 **Seagate out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Right so got another chapter here that I hope you will enjoy, had a great response so far that is really getting me pumped for my writing. The characters in this may act slightly different than they did in canon but the reason for that is the experiences they have been from, after all it is only natural for a person to adapt and evolve to their new situation.**

 **It was said when the Targaryen's first descended on Westeros on the back of their dragons they changed the rules and the Seven Kingdoms had to adapt to meet these changes. Now let's see how they will deal with nearly six hundred Magicals coming to Westeros, how will the Great Lord's of the land and their armies deal with this, will they adapt or will they die?**

 **(Last Time)**

 _"Hey, Harry, the ship's finished," Fred Weasley said as he walked forward._

 _"Yeah, I can see that. You lot did a good job. I'm impressed," Harry replied as he looked upon the finished project that rested on a slight ramp that led to the Veil of Death._

 _It was a beast of a ship, made in the style of one of the old-fashioned ships of the line. It was one hundred and twenty feet long and almost forty feet wide, had four decks making it very large and very imposing. The ship had seventy-four cannons poking out of the sides, though these were not regular cannons. These were rune cannons, so named because they were powered by runes. These cannons instead of sending out iron balls sent out blasts of pure magic, which thanks to the rune controls can be made explosive, fiery, icy, etc. at the operator's desire. They were pretty damn powerful but they were also very heavy with the etched runes not being compatible with the featherlight charms._

 _The ship though was entirely wind powered, why that was Harry didn't know. It was probably due to the lack of knowledge on this new world, which meant that if they tried to use a steam engine, they might not be able to get more fuel and transfiguring it was just not a viable option. Therefore, the ship had three masts each with massive billowing sails. On each of these was emblazoned a black dragon, the chosen sigil for the Order of the Dragon._

 _"When will we be able to depart?" Harry asked as he continued to inspect the massive ship._

 _"Hmm, probably in an hour. We have everything packed up on board and well secured. Everyone is accounted for except for the sentries," Fred replied as he scratched his chin._

 _"We might be able to get going sooner. All the checks have been done and there have been no problems. Unfortunately, to get it ready this fast we had to use up the last of the time turners we have. So yeah, no more time travel for us," George said as he walked up to Harry and his twin Fred._

 _"No matter. There is a good chance that the time turners wouldn't work in this new world. They might be bound to this plane. To be honest, I'm not sure the secret to creating them was never shared and those who knew are dead," Harry replied before turning to the room at large that was full of the assembled Order of the Dragon and all its allies, or at least those who weren't on sentry duty or who weren't already on the ship._

 _"Prepare yourselves. We cast off in an hour."_

 _"You might want to make that sooner, Harry," Neville said as he walked up, still wearing his Goblin plate armor. "We just had a Patronus message from the sentries. They 're under attack and are tactically retreating. We lost four at the moment."_

 _"Shit! Alright. Pull them back and transfigure the entrance into solid stone. We're leaving now!" Harry replied hurriedly before he turned once again to the room at large. "Get on board. Prepare to open the portal and power up the ship's defenses. We are leaving now!"_

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 3**

 **( - )**

 **(West of the Iron Islands, Sunset Sea)**

It was early in the morning and the wind was blowing hard, causing heavy waves and sea spray. As the wind blew across the ocean, one could see a fully unfurled flag flying from the mast of a ship. The rising sun just showing the image emblazoned upon the flag of a golden kraken reaching up from the depths to sink her foes beneath the ocean waves. Standing on her deck was Yara Greyjoy, only daughter of Balon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, was deep in thought. She had received a message before dawn from a fisherman, one of the many who worked there trade around the Iron Islands and one of the many who worked as lookouts for the pirates of the Iron Islands. Apparently, from what she had heard a large sea vessel had just appeared in their waters out of nowhere. When asked for a description, the man had provided few details but enough to make it out to be a worthy ship to capture and an easy one too. The ship was supposedly massive but also lightly armed. There had been no mention of ballistae on deck or catapults. The only thing it apparently had was a high hull and some metal plates on the outside. Just to be sure though, that she could not only take the ship but that she could also make off with everything on it. She had brought along two more longboats with hers.

Such was the life of the Ironborn and followers of the Drowned God. To raid, pillage, and plunder others so that the people of the Iron Islands could thrive. Sure some tried to work an honest trade but they were considered craven. The Ironborn, for the time being, were limited to raiding merchant vessels and the like out at sea like the one they were going for now, rather than the nice wealthy mainland coast. After all, if the Ironborn, particularly those being led by a Greyjoy, were found to have attacked a seaside village or port, then they could at least expect to feel the wrath of the entire North shortly after, if not an alliance of Houses again. But such was the price of losing a war: you either win big or lose hard and as much as Yara hated to admit it the Ironborn had lost badly.

But Yara was calm and patient unlike many of the other Ironborn who sailed the waves. After all, she hadn't earned her position as a ship's captain for nothing. She was meticulous on who she targeted and she often used the fishermen lookouts to scout out her prey. She worked off their reports to decide whether to attack. By doing so, she had earned both the respect and loyalty of her men the hard way, by getting the prizes and keeping her men alive. Though some, of course, she had to beat into the ground to earn their respect.

The ship that they were currently waiting for should come into view before long. The plan was to attack at the crack of dawn when whatever guards they had would be sleepy, add in the early morning fog creeping along and the sailors would never know what hit them. Right now, Yara had men from each boat keeping a lookout for the ship in question. Once they saw the outline of the ship, they would strike hard and fast, not giving their target the chance to mount a proper defense. Speed and maneuverability on the water were one of the advantages that the longboats the Ironborn used, allowing them to strike quickly and leave just as quick if the situation called for it.

It should not be long now before the target comes, Yara thought as she swept her shoulder-length hair back from her face. She was ready.

All at once, the watchers gave the signal for sighting the ship. Quickly looking in the direction that they indicated, Yara did indeed see a ship coming. It looked different from what she was used to but it wouldn't be the first time it had happened. She had seen an array of trading vessels from Essos and this one would be no different. Yara thrust her arm into the air and gave the signal, and in response, all three longboats set out to surround the ship on two sides.

Getting closer, Yara noticed the ship had seemed to have strange iron poles sticking out of the holes in ship's sides. No doubt some new fashion statement some fool from Essos came up with. In her opinion only fools decorated their ships like that, a ship was a tool not a piece of art.

As they got closer and cut through the early morning fog, another odd thing stuck out. The ship was a lot larger than what she was used to or from what she had planned for. It must have been even bigger than the great ships built in the south! Ships were either built for war or large scale trading, and this ship might have good defenses but there were no ballistae visible. It was probably built for trading.

"Come on, men! Let's take this boat and fuck her into submission! We do not sow!" Yara shouted, a rousing cheer and shout from her crew as they too bellowed House Greyjoy's words. Grinning viciously at herself, Yara drew a short-hafted ax from her belt. They had the element of surprise, the numbers, and the experience. What could go wrong?

But Yara failed to see a figure making his way to the front of the ship. The man was wearing a large heavy coat and had black hair. It was like he was hidden so that unless you knew that the person was there, you would never see them.

When Yara got closer, she gave out the signal to charge full speed ahead. The longboats all picked up speed, ignoring the white flag of peace flying from the mast of the ship.

"Only a little bit further," readied the Ironborn leader as she started swinging her boarding ax, itching for the fight to come.

Just before they got close enough to take out the foe's longboats, however, Yara swore that she heard someone on the other ship shouting something. Then to her shock, a large jet of deadly, golden fire seemed to erupt from the prow of the larger vessel. As the stream of fire tore its way through the air it struck one of the other longboats in her flotilla and exploded, lighting all aboard aflame. The screams of those still living being drowned out by the roaring fire. A fire that seemed to take the shape of a large serpent as it rapidly spread over the ship consuming wood, metal, and flesh.

"Shit! Is that fucking wildfire!?" another sailor on her ship shouted out as he stared at the burning longboat in terror, hearing the screams of agony and seeing the men jumping in the sea to put out the fire only for it to keep on burning.

"Oh, by the Drowned God! Another ball of fire!" cried out someone else in a panic, as the sailors tried to get their boat away from the unnatural golden flames.

Indeed, there it was. It struck Yara's other ship, this time taking the shape of some demonic looking hound with the flames spreading just as quickly and dooming those on it as well, their screams carrying over in the wind. She had just lost two-thirds of her men and boats in seconds! Wildfire or not, she was about to order the men on her own boat to retreat until she heard something that should have been impossible.

 _"Stay where you are or else you will meet the same fate as your comrades!"_

The shout was so loud, she had to cover her ears as did many others. The only place it could have come from was from the large ship. But with the wind blowing like it was, out on the open sea, that should not have been possible!

Yara's men looked to her for orders, panic barely being controlled. Though she herself was barely any better, her being in a state of shock as well. But finally, she gave the order, "Set anchor! Set anchor, damn you! I will not have us roasted alive!" Almost immediately, the anchor was dropped to the side and the Ironborn on the ship dropped their weapons.

Yara had heard tales of wildfire back when she was younger and was told tales of the fall of the Targaryens but what she had just seen didn't add up. For one, wildfire was not colored gold, it was supposed to be green. As the massive foreign ship got closer, Yara's and her crews' eyes grew wide. As the fog cleared more and showed what she had missed in her excitement for battle. Emblazoned on the mainsail was a creature, a creature that had become infamous throughout Westeros. If Yara had seen it, she would not have tried attacking and instead would have gone home to warn her father. After all, emblazoned on the sails and flying on the ships banners was the symbol of a dragon.

Yara and her remaining crew could only wait as the bigger boat drew nearer. They waited until two large rowing boats pulled up beside her longboat and about twenty figures jumped aboard and disarmed Yara's men. These figures wearing thick black, hooded cloaks and a mixture of armor that seemed to be made of either metal plate or scales. Yara waited as these strangers tied up her men, pulling ropes and chains from seemingly nowhere before tightly binding the sailors. Then Yara noticed something else as she tried to get a glimpse under the hoods they were wearing. Nearly half of the strangers were women! Not some high lady used to soft comforts but they looked a deal like her, like warriors. Women used to fighting, battle, and death. But despite their tough appearances, several of the women were stunning in their appearance. There were two women who had silver hair who seemed to draw the eye of Yara and her entire crew. Their beauty was almost unnatural, Yara thought as she saw several of her men, who were closest to the two women and whose eyes started to glaze.

Finally, two men came over to her pulling down their hoods as they did so. One had a bit of a rugged look to him but also a certain air of nobility too as he walked up in thick plate armor with a grim look on his face. The other had a more haggard look. He was probably mid-twenties the same age as the other one but he looked much older, his sandy hair thinning a bit and his face gaunt but despite this, he still looked to be an experienced soldier.

The younger looking of the two pointed to her and asked, "You are the one in charge of these pirates, are you not?" Yara could hear the disgust in his voice when he said "pirates", the scowl on his face also emphasizing his disapproval.

"I-I am the leader of these Ironborn," Yara got out still a bit in shock from what had happened to her other boats. Both now ashes beneath the waves.

The gaunt man spat on the deck of her boat before speaking in a brand and unidentifiable accent to her, "Ironborn? Whatever. You scum always try to disguise yourselves as something else to sneak up on good people. Your just filthy scavengers and murderers."

It was clear to the younger looking man, who looked to be in his early twenties, held a similar opinion but held his temper much better than his friend. "Easy now, Seamus. He wants the ones on this boat left alive. For now."

Turning his attention back to Yara, "And you're the captain he wishes to speak to you personally. A word of advice, young lady, I would be honest with him. He'll know if you are lying and if he finds you do, you'll regret it. He's not as merciful as he once was."

"Who is this 'he' you speak of? And who are you for that matter?" Yara asked wanting to know that much at least before she met the man.

With a slight scowl at the question, the man answered, "My name is Neville Longbottom, one of the main members of the Order of the Dragon. The man you are about to meet is the defacto leader of our Order and one of the most powerful and dangerous people you are ever likely to meet. His name is Harry Potter."

For some reason, as Yara heard that name she felt a sudden chill run down her spine as a sense of foreboding hit her.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry on the Remnant)**

Harry had seen the boats coming long before the lookouts had. A nice little side effect of the ritual he used to improve his eyesight. He had planned accordingly having alerted the others and had gone to the front of the ship to deal with the nuisance. He had, of course, only aimed for the two boats without the distinctive banner of the golden squid or whatever it was on a black background.

Harry had learned long ago that when traveling through unknown territory it was always best to expect the worst. Too many times he had been attacked by Tainted Ones or surviving muggle fanatics, and those were just a few of the things he had come across while traveling through war-torn Europe and further afield. Here though, three boats filled with lightly armored men looking for an easy score? Yeah, he knew pirates or scavengers when he saw them. Murderous thieves the lot of them; he had no pity and no patience for that type of scum.

But he wanted the captain of the main boat so that he could learn of where these pirates had come from and what this new world he had come to was like. He hoped whoever this person was that they would be cooperative. The sooner his people found a proper base and got information about this world the better.

As it turned out, Daphne had no stomach for the sea. They had only been on it for a few hours and she was still below deck heaving. He had offered her a potion to help but she had refused for some reason, which had left him bored without her company. The crossing through the portal had been easy enough, the sentries had been able to get on board in time and there had been no losses or damage during the journey through the Veil. This was to be expected, considering the sheer amount of protective enchantments and wards on the ship. As for the portal, that he was not sure about. Daphne hypothesized that the portal would either collapse in on itself after having been forced to expand like it had or it would stabilize and remain open. Either way, they would know until they checked. Something Harry was waiting to do after they had gotten settled. After all, the portal was a hundred meters underwater; anything that passed through it unprepared would die from the pressure.

Right now though, Harry was waiting for Neville to bring up the leader of these pirates. He had plenty of experiences with battle and normally would have just destroyed all three vessels. But they knew so little of the lands they were going to, and these pirates had obviously come from somewhere not too far off, hopefully. Perhaps a region of this new land? Let's hope so. Else I may have to end a life I just spared. Harry didn't like entertaining such thoughts. He may be harsh when he had to but he would much rather spare a life than end one.

Finally, up the chain ladder a goblin had thrown over the side, came Neville followed by a young woman that had the stance that seemed to command respect. Great. This isn't going to end well. Harry knew that this pirate wasn't going to be the average thug he was used to dealing with. Pirates from what he remembered of muggle history were simply bandits on boats: rough, violent, and dirty. This young woman, Harry could tell just by looking, that she was violent and possibly rough but she was too clean and too self-assured to fit in with what he thought a pirate would be like.

"Neville, bring her into my cabin," Harry ordered.

Neville obeyed, trusting his friend to know what to do about the pirate in their custody.

When the trio entered, Harry noted there was still a wild look in the pirate's eyes. Probably from the fiendfyre I cast at her ships. Harry couldn't blame her. It's not everyday one sees a hellfire encompass a boat almost out of nowhere. Even Harry would be scared if he saw a jet of fiendfyre coming at him.

Neville sat the woman down in a comfortable leather armchair that Harry had taken from a noble pureblood house. A bloody good chair it was too, hence why he stole it, better being in his possession than in ashes. Harry could see Neville still had reservations about the whole situation. The man had seen enough death and suffering to have hardened his heart against people like her. Usually, he demanded the execution of anyone who attacked those he deemed as innocent and the last thing Harry needed was a potential information source accidentally killed. Neville might have matured a lot from when he was a kid but he was still an impulsive Gryffindor inside.

"Neville, see that the other prisoners are looked after. If any try to escape, kill them. Otherwise, make sure they are secured."

Neville just nodded and left but not before throwing Yara a suspicious look. Not trusting the pirate captain in the slightest.

Harry strode over to where he had a bottle of fire-whiskey, Ogden's finest. His personal favorite and one of many bottles that they had managed to recover and bring with them. He poured several inches into two glass tumblers and set one down in front of the pirate with the other in front of his own seat. Sitting down, he gestured for the woman to take a drink. She only stared at it.

"Look, love, if I wanted you dead, poisoning you would be the last thing I would do, particularly for this. I could have your throat slit when Neville and his men boarded your vessel or even simply burned it like the other two. In fact, there are hundreds of different ways I could kill you but poison is the least of your worries. But I do recommend the drink. It's a personal favorite."

Harry took a quick drink out of his glass and let out a sigh of contentment as he felt the fiery liquid flow into his stomach, filling him with warmth. After seeing that there were no ill effects, the woman took a drink from hers, eyes widening at the strong taste before she downed the drink clearly made of strong stuff as she did so without a single cough.

"I see you like it as well. It's famous back home. Alas, we are not here to talk of the simpler things in life but of information," began Harry.

"I won't help you take over the Iron Islands!" declared the woman defiantly, leveling a glare at Harry as she did so.

Harry chuckled a little at the women's fiery attitude before he decided to lie a little to put her more at ease and to make her more compliant. "I have no desire to rule your Iron Islands. I merely wish to know what part of the world we are in, and if, by chance, your name? Because I doubt you wish for everyone aboard to call you 'pirate' or 'savage'."

The woman stared at him for a moment, trying to match her glare with the unblinking and cool stare from Harry. Unfortunately for the woman, it took more than being a raider to intimidate him. Few could nowadays.

She glanced down and spoke softly, "The Iron Islands are a part of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. My own father is Lord of the Iron Islands. As for my name, it is Yara Greyjoy. The Iron Islands are east of here."

Harry smiled, satisfied. "See? That's wasn't so difficult, was it, Yara."

The absence of usage of titles to her name made Yara look back up, half-angry and half-confused.

"Unfortunately, I don't put much stock into titles handed down for generations. I have had enough experience with supposed nobility to know that they are no better than anyone else and for the most part are actually a lot worse," explained Harry with a smile and a twinkle in his eye as he used a bit of passive legilimency on the women in front of him, just to get a feel for her character and her honesty.

"Who are you, my lord?" Yara asked feeling her composure come back at the lack of hostility from the man before her.

Harry sighed. "Another bad habit of mine. I also hate being addressed with titles. It all seems so pointless to me. Though I, technically, am a lord of a noble house but again it means nothing as I am the last member of the practically extinct house anyway. But moving on, you can call me Harry."

"So you captured me only to ask such questions? Who sent you? Why do you not know where Westeros is?" demanded Yara as she regained her old fire with the man's easy-going nature putting her at ease.

"My dear Yara," the tone Harry used made her flinch as it cold and condescending. "You make demands of us? Your men could be put down like rabid dogs with a just a single word from me and you wouldn't be gently questioned like what is happening now. No, you would be forced to give us all the knowledge you possess even if it killed you and my people would gladly do it. They have gone through hell and back, have faced the evils and cruelty of life but have come out not only alive but stronger than ever. But, as a gesture of good will, I shall answer your questions."

Harry heard her let out a breath she herself may not have known she held. He made himself comfortable on his chair. "I captured you because this land is a mystery to my people. We do not know the geography, the culture, the politics, or the technology of your land. Therefore, I am keeping you and your crew members alive so that I can get that information from you. For you see, the land I come from was, no doubt, different to this Westeros and so for people to fit in and adapt to life here I need information. Information that you as the 'heir of the Iron Islands' will no doubt possess."

"Where are you from them?" Yara asked as she took in what he had just said.

"Oh, I doubt you have ever heard of it. I doubt anyone from where I come from had ever heard of Westeros either. At least before me and my crew set sail. That being said, there is a possibility others have made the crossing before us. Who knows though."

Harry could tell she was still tense, despite the occasional sip of fire whiskey. "Oh, relax," he reassured her. "As my men said, no harm shall come to you and yours so long as you behave. You, I was on the fence about until you decided to be cooperative. You have my oath that no harm shall befall you so long as you or your men do not attack my people." He wanted this to be clear as possible, though he did leave himself an out by not making the oath magically binding. You never know what may need to be done, after all.

Yara, however, just seemed confused at his words, having expected a lot worse. "Y-you wouldn't let your forces have their way with me?" she asked, stunned.

Harry was rather taken aback by her words. "I don't know how things are in Westeros but such things are simply unacceptable to every member of my crew. In fact, my people will kill anyone who acts in such a way on sight. I have lost count of the number myself. And if it makes you feel better, I could have female guards on you at all times. But guarded you will be nonetheless."

Yara finally seemed to relax or at least as much as a prisoner could. He may be ruthless when he must be but he still disliked having to "convince" people to talk the hard way as it was so messy and unnecessary. So he was satisfied with Yara being cooperative for the time being. He would have hated to waste several drops of veritaserum.

"You may finish your drink. But then I shall have a guard escort you to a room for the time being," concluded Harry. He still had much to do as they may finally have a proper destination but they still needed to get a proper overview of the land and its people. They needed to get a proper map of these Iron Islands to see whether they would make a suitable base and if so then they would need to plan their invasion. Hopefully, it would be quick as the sooner they found a base, secured it, moved into it and finally improved it with their magic the better because after that the real game would begin.

 **( - )**

 **AN: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, the next one is in production. Though it may not come out straight away as I have received some comments about my gramma in the second chapter, so I will probably be going over that first trying to correct as much of it as I can find. I don't have a beta reader so I do tend to miss them.**

 **Anyway please review I do love reading them and they do inspire me to write faster.**

 **Also feel free to throw any ideas you have that you think might go well in this story at me, I would love to hear from you and am open to any suggestions and ideas about what Harry and his allies can do now they are in Westeros.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Update 2018, thanks to Foxmac my beta this chapter has been betaed.**

 **Seagate out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Another chapter for you, I am really getting into it now, wanted to get this out before I went back and started correcting some of the grammar. Had some really good reviews that gave me some great ideas, some of which I am going to incorporate. For those who are wondering this started a year before canon, so there will be a few more chapters before any canon stuff happens just so Harry and his lot can secure their place and make their mark. And who knows they may even play the game of thrones, I have added a few hints into this chapter on what some of their objectives may later become.**

 **Some may recognise bits and pieces of this chapter and the last from a story called Dragon's fire by Jackalope89, and you would be right I used some ideas and whatnot from one of his chapters with his full permission. It is not word for word and has for the most part been put into my own words and incorporate my own ideas. Just thought I would put this warning to credit Jackalope89 and avoid any confusion as I did have Permission, from here though it will branch completely away from where Dragon's fire went in ways that may surprise you.**

 **There is an old saying 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions' Harry and his lot think they are doing the right thing for the right reasons, but by doing so are they unknowingly becoming the very thing they sought to get away from?**

 **Now they are in Westeros, how long before they gain perspective, how long before they realize the road they are treading and will they all agree? It is all part of the story. Is there such thing as good or evil or is there just power and those who are to weak to use it?**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

 **( - )**

 **(Last Time)**

 _Harry could tell she was still tense, despite the occasional sip of fire whiskey. "Oh, relax," he reassured her. "As my men said, no harm shall come to you and yours so long as you behave. You, I was on the fence about until you decided to be cooperative. You have my oath that no harm shall befall you so long as you or your men do not attack my people." He wanted this to be clear as possible, though he did leave himself an out by not making the oath magically binding. You never know what may need to be done, after all._

 _Yara, however, just seemed confused at his words, having expected a lot worse. "Y-you wouldn't let your forces have their way with me?" she asked, stunned._

 _Harry was rather taken aback by her words. "I don't know how things are in Westeros but such things are simply unacceptable to every member of my crew. In fact, my people will kill anyone who acts in such a way on sight. I have lost count of the number myself. And if it makes you feel better, I could have female guards on you at all times. But guarded you will be nonetheless."_

 _Yara finally seemed to relax or at least as much as a prisoner could. He may be ruthless when he must be but he still disliked having to "convince" people to talk the hard way as it was so messy and unnecessary. So he was satisfied with Yara being cooperative for the time being. He would have hated to waste several drops of veritaserum._

 _"You may finish your drink. But then I shall have a guard escort you to a room for the time being," concluded Harry. He still had much to do as they may finally have a proper destination but they still needed to get a proper overview of the land and its people. They needed to get a proper map of these Iron Islands to see whether they would make a suitable base and if so then they would need to plan their invasion. Hopefully, it would be quick as the sooner they found a base, secured it, moved into it and finally improved it with their magic the better because after that the real game would begin._

 **( - )**

 **(Onboard the Remnant)**

Lost in thought as he was, Harry had failed to realize a different expression making its way across Yara's face as she sat opposite from him. One that she would try and take advantage of what she assumed was someone she could maybe seduce. After all, she didn't want to be a captive and this might be a way out. Yara quietly got up from her seat and loosened her shirt in an attempt at a seductive expression on her face. Reaching out for Harry, who was still staring out of the window in thought, she put a hand on his shoulder and gently ran it across his back, which immediately brought Harry out of his daze.

Harry saw what she was trying to do, and sighed. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Yara stopped, surprised he was simply rejecting her without even a second thought. "But why? Surely someone of your status-"

Suddenly, Yara's hand was grabbed by another in a vice-like grip from behind. She felt the hand not only pull her's away from Harry but twist painfully behind her back with almost supernatural strength. Trying to look behind her from her uncomfortable position, Yara found herself looking at a tall and beautiful woman with pale white skin, glossy golden hair, and piercing blue eyes. Even more, it seemed as if the woman wasn't even exerting herself as she held Yara captive. Instead, a slightly cruel smile marred her elegant face.

Harry got up from his seat to stand just slightly behind the woman. "Yara, meet my partner and closest confidant, Daphne Greengrass. Daphne, meet Yara Greyjoy. According to her, she's one of the great lords of this land's daughter."

Daphne gave Harry a slightly annoyed look. "Indeed. So this is one of the prisoners we have captured, though I am confused. Why is she walking free and not incapacitated or being 'properly' interrogated?"

Harry merely gave her a crooked grin as he brought his hand back to scratch the back of his head. "Come on now, Daph, we're not savages here. Besides, she is the daughter of a lord, it's probably best not to damage her either physically or mentally. We're unsure of how we're going to deal with her father and giving him back an empty shell he once called his daughter would somewhat put a dampener on relations."

Yara, who had at that point been trying to wiggle her wrist out of the grip to free herself from the uncomfortable position she found herself in, froze at Harry's words and the casualness with which he had said them. She could almost kick herself for being lulled into a false sense of security by Harry and his open friendliness and had almost forgotten what he and his crew had done and what they could still do. As the thought crossed her mind, she found the hand on her wrist tighten and could feel the muscles in her arm painfully tense as her arm was further twisted behind her back.

"Come on now, Daphne. I don't think either of us wants harm to come to our guest. Well, at least for the moment. Now, if you don't mind, I'll come back with Gabby, who will act as her guard and escort," Harry said as he excused himself from the room, leaving Daphne and Yara alone.

Daphne watched Harry leave through the door and turned her attention back to Yara, her eyes cold as ice. "Listen here, you little savage bitch. Be thankful Harry dislikes harming little girls but do not take his kindness for granted. You're just a means to an end. If you try anything or attempt to push your luck, I will make it so your death will last for days," Daphne said smiling coldly at Yara with the sudden bloodlust in her faintly glowing eyes and knew she was more than willing to carry her threat out and would enjoy it. Yara suddenly felt more afraid than when she had when the fire had consumed two of her boats. There was something about this woman and about Harry was not normal. The way they carried themselves, the way they talked there was something not natural about them.

"By the D-drowned God! Who the hell are you people?" Yara gasped out as she tried to shake off the feeling of this woman's eyes boring into her like they could her soul laid bare.

"If you behave, then we will be people that you won't have to worry about. If you don't, well, let's just say there are worse things than death," threatened Daphne still smiling that cold smile.

Yara believed her.

"So are you going to behave like a good little savage?" Daphne's voice carried plenty of hostility and disdain in it as she spoke down to Yara.

Yara nodded, finding it harder to speak as if some unseen force were choking her.

"Good." Daphne gave her a shove as she let her hand go, knocking Yara to the floor as she held her injured wrist.

Daphne shook her head at the sight. She had figured this woman to be stronger as she led a decently sized host of men in this brutish savage world they found themselves in. But she had been disappointed as the girl was just a mad dog and, in Daphne's mind, it would be better if they just ripped the information they needed from the woman's mind and then put her down. But it was not up to her, it was up to Harry who for all his ruthlessness and tactical genius on the battlefield, still had a merciful side no matter how small it was.

"Oh, calm down, girl. So long as you behave, Harry and the rest of us will remain true to his word. But I will not have any more of trying that. Are we clear?"

Yara nodded again.

"Good. Now get up. Harry should be back soon with your escort," advised Daphne as she sat down in one of the chairs in the cabin.

Sure enough, a few moments later Harry came returned with a beautiful silver-haired girl with bright blue eyes. The girl was wearing armor made of what looked like blue scales with a black cloak thrown around her shoulders. At her side was a sword sharpened only on one side with a curve along it. Harry introduced her as Gabrielle Delacour, an elite Order member.

Yara found the woman to be cheerful and flirty around Harry but disapproving of her as she escorted her out of the cabin with a disgruntled expression. As they walked, Yara could hear her grumble about "'aving to play babysitter to a worzless savage". Yara wisely decided not to cross the woman if she could help it as the rapid change in personality and demeanor was unnerving. The room Yara was brought in to was a comfortable wood-paneled room with a small bed in the corner. Looking into the room Yara almost thought it looked bigger on the inside than it had any right to be.

Meanwhile, as Yara went into the room, Gabrielle closed the door and laid her right palm against it before, with a muttered spell, the palm glowed and the door sealed itself. With that, she walked off further into the ship to help the others interrogate their less valuable prisoners.

Yara sat on the bed in the room, wondering what these people were going to do. So far the man called Harry had made good on his word. The other, Daph, was a bit unnerving with her hostility but was still impressive. "Whoever these people are, they came prepared for something," muttered Yara.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

In Harry's cabin, Harry and Daphne were discussing their new "guest".

"You really like sneaking up on people, don't you?" Harry half-teased with a smile on his face as he laid back slightly relaxing in his chair. "How are you, by the way? A bit seasick?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a bit of nausea it will pass. Also, I was not sneaking around. You were just too oblivious to notice. Thinking about slumming it with the savage, were you?" scolded Daphne.

"Well, it's good you're feeling better. As for your worries, you should know me better by now. I'm loyal to you and only you. Besides, the girl stank of fish." responded Harry with a chuckle.

"Now who is being harsh? I don't know. She might be a bit plain but at least she has something about her and isn't like a silly little girl prancing around in a dress," Daphne laughed.

"True. True. So what now?" Harry replied.

"Now we prepare for the journey ahead!" Daphne said rolling her eyes as Harry pulled out a book to read for the time being. "But that doesn't mean you can just laze around!"

( - )

Over the course of the last few days, Harry had done as he had said. Yara and what remained of her men were unharmed or at least physically unharmed. Yara had been brought to Harry and Daphne so they could question her more about Westeros. Most of what they had asked was fairly common knowledge about the different lands and Houses, though she supposed that if they were from some far away land, it made sense that they ask her these questions. She had also answered all them truthfully. Initially, she had thought to lie but for some reason whenever she was in their presence, she found herself almost compelled to tell the truth. Today she was up on deck and this was the first time she had been allowed up here in days. With her were both Harry and Daphne. As she looked around, she noticed just how big the ship was. It must have been thirty feet wide and a hundred and fifty feet long. But more than that was the crew that unnerved her as most of them were what looked like normal people wearing a mixture of armor and cloaks. There were others, however, that weren't as normal. There seemed to be many of these small ugly little creatures, also in armor, running around. Now, if she were a superstitious person, Yara might have thought them to be snark what with their short height, guttural voices, and thick skin. But as she wasn't, she had heard there was a similar creature at Casterly Rock: Tyrion Lannister. A dwarf. A despicable little lecher, yes, but apparently smart. Therefore, she simply assumed these ugly crew members of Harry's were similar to Tyrion and so were kept around for a reason.

As Yara looked around the ship, Harry was watching her, contemplating explaining what the goblins were to her. Deciding that she didn't need to know, he went ahead with his questions, casting subtle compulsion charms as he did so to ensure her honesty. "The Starks? The 'Wardens of the North'? I take it they are an important family."

Yara nodded. "They are. They have ruled the North, in some capacity, for thousands of years, I think."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, slightly surprised. A single House had ruled over an area that large for so long was nearly unheard of. In Britain during the medieval times, the land changed hands regularly over the generations. It appears the people here were different. If nothing else, Harry was intrigued by the House's history for it to have survived so long. He had heard of many of the other Houses, both from Yara's account as a high lord's daughter and from her crew, whose minds the wizards had ripped apart to extract all useful information. But they were unharmed, at least physically. Mentally, not so much, but the men had been thieves, murderers, and rapists. So they deserved what they got.

"What sort of relationship do these Northerners have with the king, Robert, was it? Yes, King Robert of King's Landing?" inquired Harry. It had been one of the first things he had asked Yara: who was the ruler of the land, where the capital was, and what the politics of the land were like, all obvious questions about Westeros.

Yara's face went blank as she tried to lie. "T-they are constantly at odds with each other. Always squabbling over the North."

Harry grunted in irritation, startling Yara. "Don't lie to me. Far better men than you have tried and failed in the past. I advise you to be honest."

Daphne nodded her agreement, having been using her legilimency to read the girl's surface thoughts.

Yara hesitated for a moment. The Starks were enemies of her family as was the king. She didn't want Harry or his people to ally with them. Opening her mouth to reply, she tried to make a more convincing lie this time, only for her mouth to betray her. "They are . . . they are closely allied. Lord Eddard Stark is considered to be a strong friend and supporter of King Robert Baratheon."

Harry gave her an inquisitive look ignoring the consternation on Yara's face. "Truly? That may make things easier than I thought."

But Yara hadn't finished. "After my father tried to start a rebellion several years ago, the Starks took my only remaining brother as a ward. The others all died during the fighting."

Harry, while he felt a very slight pang of sympathy for her sibling being made a political prisoner, didn't feel too sorry. Anyone that not only condones but encourages piracy was not someone he felt much sympathy for. He was surprised that her father had been allowed to live, let alone keep his House. If it were up to him he would have wiped House Greyjoy from existence and purged the Iron Islands of piracy. Even if it meant the death and destruction of any of the Houses that called the place home.

House and even culture, built on piracy and taking pride in it, how that House was still around he didn't know. For time being he would go in without hostile intentions. If they were unlucky then a fight with the Ironborn could lead to an all-out war against Westeros and Harry had not brought his people here just so they could take part in another pointless war. But should a more direct attack happen, Harry only promised he would not start any fighting. Finishing it, however . . .

"Honestly, Yara, be grateful you even have a House or family left. If it were up to me I would have wiped your House from existence," commented Daphne, not caring for subtly or politeness when dealing with the girl as she would either be killed or obliviated by the end. Either way, she would not be telling anyone of their secrets or of how Daphne treated her.

"Thanks to the charts on your ship, these Iron Islands should be coming into view before long," said a satisfied Harry as he ignored Daphne's comments.

That made Yara cringe. The people that had boarded her boat, after taking them prisoner, had gone through everything that could prove useful. One of those things they had found had been the maps and charts of the entire coast of Westeros that she used during her raids. Even her own boat was currently being towed behind the ship so it could be stripped down and used for parts later.

Yara was dreading what her father would do to her after failing so spectacularly. Losing two longboats full of men and her own captured. She already felt the shame and her father was not the most forgiving of people. Far from it as he even carried a grudge against her youngest brother, Theon, despite him being a prisoner ever since Balon's failed rebellion. Yara missed Theon as he was her only living brother.

Harry, despite the company, was watching the distance. Eager to see these "Iron Islands" that Yara hailed from. They would be the first land of this world that they would see and they were new lands that had never been explored by his people before.

Finally, after a month of preparation, a journey through a mysterious portal and a week at sea, Harry could see land in the distance. The Iron Islands were in sight. "There it is, lads and lasses! The land of Westeros!"

"You know, Harry, I just thought of something," began Daphne.

"Oh? How to get over seasickness?" teased Harry a smirk on his face as he looked at her.

"No, you idiot. Think about it. Despite what Neville, Blaise, and I have said, you want to go in peacefully at first and not with wands blazing. Surely running up a white flag of peace may help, " advised Daphne. "Unless you changed your mind, at which point I can have the goblins prime and aim the rune cannons so we can bombard the Greyjoys and their allies to hell."

"Hmm, you do have a point," Harry admitted as he conjured a large white piece of cloth before he passed it off to Michael Corner, a member of the Order who was standing nearby listening in. "Tell Ragnar and his goblins to set up the cannons and have the entire Order on deck. If this goes south, then we will blow anything that gets in our way to pieces."

Michael saluted, and then rushed off to relay Harry's orders and affix the white flag to the top of the mast.

Daphne merely rolled her eyes, unimpressed with Harry's caution but didn't interfere, knowing that it was this same paranoia and caution about hidden dangers that had kept them all alive and made this journey possible.

 **( - )**

 **(The Iron Islands)**

Lord Balon Greyjoy, Lord of Pyke and the Iron Islands, and head of his House was quite clearly agitated. His only daughter, Yara, had gone out over a week ago to intercept what was supposed to have been a large haul of some unprotected merchant vessel that had not been on the Iron Island's trading list but he had heard nothing since. It was unlike her to take so long as she had taken three longboats of some of the best raiders they had and had been no word since.

Turning to one of his servants, Balon gave his orders, "Go back down to the docks and see if there is any news of Yara!"

The servant tried protesting, "But we've been down to the docks three times already, my lord! Three runners are standing by down there as it is!"

"I don't _care_! Go down and-" Before Balon could finish, the doors to his hall slammed open by one of the runners, breathing heavily.

"My Lord Greyjoy! A ship! A giant unknown ship has been spotted heading this way!"

Balon was an ambitious man but he had to rein in his ambitions a lot after his failed rebellion eight years earlier. He had kept a low profile, so who could it be that was visiting the Iron Islands and how did it get so close without being molested by raiders if it was an unknown. "Whose banners are they flying under, boy?" he demanded running a gnarled hand through his thin gray hair.

"There is only one banner on the ship coming here, my lord. It's of a roaring d-dragon," the boy said, his voice trailing off nervously at the end.

"By the Drowned God, have the Targaryens returned!? I thought they all perished years ago! Hmm, no. The banner is wrong but who else fights under a dragon? Targaryen loyalists wanting vengeance, perhaps?" Balon was worried now. If it was the Targaryens or their Targaryen loyalists, this could be bad. He was already on shaky ground with the king and many of the high lords. His House barely survived his rebellion against the crown. If the spies, who were, no doubt, on his island, reported a ship with a dragon banner coming to Pyke, they would take their whispers to the capital, then he would be accused of conspiring with either the Targaryens or their loyalists against the crown. And there was one thing King Robert hated more than anything else: it was the Targaryens. If he didn't do something and this got out, then his House would be fucked!

Balon, along with those in court with him, ran out to a large set of windows that looked out over the sea to see the ship. A lone ship, larger than any other ship in the Iron Fleet was sailing towards them like some looming leviathan. The ship was massive and had what looked like four decks and three large masts, as opposed to the one or two that the Ironborn ships had. Furthermore, the ship was clad in what looked like steel giving it a strong defense against the Ironborn's ballistae. Then he saw the symbol emblazoned on each of the sails. Indeed, they were as the boy had described but it was only a single-headed dragon, not the three-headed ones that graced the Targaryen banner as well as it was a black dragon not red, which made Balon breathe a sigh of relief. He also saw a flag of truce but decided to ignore it.

Then his breath caught again. "Who the hell are these people!?" Balon, like most of the major Houses of Westeros, knew most House banners by heart. But as he had never seen this banner before, his closest guess was it being some Targaryen loyalist's banner.

"My lord? What should we do?" one of Balon's attendants asked, worry apparent in his voice as he watched the large ship approach.

"A foreign vessel coming into our shores without permission, showing a banner that is associated with us would see the end of House Greyjoy and the Iron Islands? What the fuck do you think!? Flag of truce or no, they are a threat, and we Ironborn do not take threats well! Roust the men for battle!" shouted Balon. He would not give up his seat so easily.

 **( - )**

 **(The Remnant)**

"Stupid fucks."

That was the consensus of everyone on board when they saw at least a dozen Ironborn longboats make their way towards the ship with more in the naval docks being loaded up with men and weapons. Even Yara had the same reaction as she stood on the deck closely watched by Gabrielle. While she knew Ironborn raiders were good fighters, especially at sea where they were in their element, they didn't know about the fire. It was something that her captors had not elaborated on as the rest of the Remnant's crew wore the looks of veterans and carried themselves in a way that spoke of power and their confidence in using it.

Harry noted the concern on Yara's face and knew it was not for him or his ship. "If your father surrenders, we may spare him. Same goes for any of the others that surrender. They will be imprisoned and be given a fair trial. If they do not, well, I'm sure you've heard how we deal with scavengers and pirates."

Yara simply kept on staring at the oncoming longboats.

"Charge and aim the rune cannons, and form battle lines. It seems these Ironborn wish to fight us," commanded Harry with a smile of anticipation making its way onto his face as he prepared for the battle to come. "Let's kill these fuckers!"

Blaise and the goblin leader, Ragnar, nodded as they both set their tasks with the goblins preparing the cannons with glee and Blaise organizing the wizarding support.

Yara watched Harry make his way towards the prow of the ship and waved one of the people their back. Gabrielle came up behind her and in a serious tone said, "You're going to witness something new. For those pirate friends of yours, I'd suggest praying to whatever gods you worship because they won't survive. You muggles are all the same: attack first, think later. Now, you will see why it is a bad idea."

Yara got close to the edge of the ship and saw some of the raider's fire off some arrows at the ship, hoping to clear it a little before they attempted a boarding. That's when she heard Harry shout out something with a maniacal gleam in his eye as he thrust his now glowing right palm out in the direction of the Ironborn.

 _"Fiendfyre!"_

Yara saw golden fire erupt from Harry's palm with a roar. The gold fire grew quickly grew in size and power with the flames taking the shape of massive snakes, wolves, stags, and dragons. She could feel the heat searing her skin from where she stood as it moved through the air to destroy anything it came in contact with. Indeed, she was proven correct when the first longboat was hit directly by it and to her horror, the ships exploded in a ball of flame sending flaming wreckage flying through the air only for it to crash into the other Ironborn longboats and catch them ablaze. From where she stood, she could only look on in horror as her people were set alight as the golden fire ate them alive and caused them to scream in agony. Even as she stood there, she was lit up by the light of the fire as even the water below seemed to burn.

The black masked Blaise soon arrived, leading a squad of armored men and women with him, each of which lined up on either side of Harry. "If this goes south, then we will blow anything that gets in our way to pieces."

"High powered and wide range spells only and aim for maximum effect! You can get fancier after we land and purge these savages!" commanded Blaise with a tone of feral joy in his voice as he looked at the destruction before him. His command was soon followed by the men and women around him drawing thin wooden sticks whose tips started to glow. Blaise, however, shrugged off his coat and stood there bare-armed in a goblin-forged steel breastplate with lines of glowing power running down his right arm as he prepared his spell.

"Rain hell on these little bitches!"

All the crew members took aim with their foci at the longboats still coming.

 _"Fire!"_

Altogether, spells exploded from the wands with some firing simple bombardas while others went more complicated and conjured hundreds of small iron balls which they fired at the Ironborn like grapeshot with the fiery balls tearing through wood, armor, and flesh. Blaise himself followed Harry's lead and fired his own fiendfyre at the enemy, his iron will controlling it with ease.

"Keep up the attack! Don't stop until they're destroyed!" Blaise commanded as he continued his spell, aiming at anything that moved out on the water.

The witches and wizards on board let loose on the raiders a multitude of different attacks hitting the Ironborn. The goblins soon joined in aiming their cannons and releasing balls of concentrated magic that exploded on contact in fiery explosions of pain and death. Instead of aiming just at ships, the goblins aimed at the land, bombarding the docks and any enemy they could see with gleeful smiles on their faces as they did so.

Yara watched as the raiders fell before they even got a chance to get close enough to board. The longboats that did get close enough were shattered by Harry's power as he released his fury against the Ironborn raiders. But the number of longboats from Pyke was increasing despite the constant bombardment. Just when Yara thought that the men from Pyke would overrun the Remnant by cutting channels through the many wrecked and burning ships surrounding the Remnant with grim determination on their faces, something different happened.

One moment some of the longboats were against the Remnant's hull with some already destroyed by the armored witches and wizards on deck, the next thing was that they all erupted in a massive explosion that rocked the Remnant and caused the wards to deplete slightly as it shielded the ship from damage. Looking to the front of the ship, one could see Harry Potter standing on the prow with his spare wand drawn to give him better control, something that wandless magic from his ritually enhanced right arm didn't give him. What he had just done was transfigure the molecules in the air around the Ironborn longboats into hydrogen. This quickly made contact with the fiendfyre still burning on the water, which caused it to ignite, resulting in an explosion.

"What the fuck just happened!? What the fuck is even happening!?" Yara screamed in a mix of rage and confusion. "What the fuck are you people? How is this even possible?!"

She then noticed that Harry was breathing slightly harder with sweat dripping from his forehead as he crouched slightly trying to catch his breath. Yara knew that he somehow had something to do with what just happened, him and his allies. She didn't know how but she knew that he had performed magic and his crew was as well, fighting like unholy demons. Just the sight of these people and the power they possessed hit a primal fear in her. A fear that said if she opposed them, then her life would be forfeit.

"What's happening here, Yara," Daphne spoke up in a knowing tone even as she watched the Order and their allies rain death down upon the enemy, "is that my people are demonstrating some of what we can do. Truth be told, Harry could probably destroy most of these longboats by himself but he's letting his comrades release tension on those we all believe to be scum. It's nothing personal, Yara. It's just good business. They attacked us, so we wipe them from existence. It's how you survive."

The words struck Yara harder than she thought. She knew many on the mainland did not exactly care for the Ironborn way of life but to hear said so bluntly and callously caused her to flinch. "It's our way of life," Yara tried to retort.

"A life of thievery and murder on the sea is no life. Since your father made it clear in his hostilities, it shall be the first thing we change," stated Daphne.

"But-" Yara tried to say.

Daphne intervened, "No. Things change for a reason and we will bring change. If need be, we will bring civility and peace to you savages. Even on these islands, there will be potential for change for a better way than pirating."

The battle raged on still with some of the raiders making it to the Remnant, exhausted from navigating through so many of their fellows' remains and smashed ships, only to be met by wizards, witches, and goblins wielding goblin-forged weaponry, swiftly cutting them down.

While this was happening, the Remnant continued moving forward, plowing through the wreckage and smashing through several longboats, heading straight towards shore. Any fires on the keel caused by the fiendfyre were quickly put out by the original casters by re-exerting their control over it.

The raiders from Pyke were quickly overwhelmed with some surrendering while others tried to fight on but were quickly cut down by the better armed and far more deadly goblins and wizards. Neville soon led his own counterattack leading a band of wizards, goblins, and an annoyed Hagrid into battle, hacking down raiders with a primal brutality fitting for such veterans by going from surviving longboat to surviving longboat killing any who fought back and even some who surrendered.

After clearing up the remains of the Iron Fleet, the Remnant made sail towards the docks on Pyke. The crew was tired despite the sea battle having barely lasted an hour and a half. But despite that, they were still ready to continue the fight.

 **( - )**

 **(Several Hours Later)**

The Battle of Pyke had turned into more of a slaughter. The raiders that were so infamous for hitting hard, fast, and getting out before trouble could come, were overwhelmed by the deadly skill of the goblins, the power of the witches and wizards, and the speed and accuracy of the centaurs. That and the shock factor of strange inhuman beings and mages attacking them that led to the one-sided slaughter. Yara noted that despite the death and destruction they were raining down on the Ironborn, there were barely six hundred of the wizards fighting. The Iron Islands, one of the great kingdoms of Westeros, was being conquered by six hundred people and of those only twenty-three had been killed in the fight. But what surprised her most was that despite the battle is over and the raiders nearly wiped out, not one of Harry's forces went on pillaging and plundering that was so common among the Westerossi. In fact, damage to houses and shops were negligible, other than the ones raiders had tried to use as ambush points.

Right now, Yara was staring at her father and his guardsmen who were chained by Harry's people, not believing what was happening.

"Lord Balon Greyjoy, you are charged with the crimes of piracy, aggression towards a neutral party, murder, rape, theft, and attacking a ship with the flag of truce flying. How do you plead?" asked a grim-faced Neville Longbottom.

"You're the invaders! We Ironborn will never bow to you! When the king hears of this-!" Balon had been angrily shouting for some time.

Yara, a prisoner herself, was merely being escorted by a stern-faced Gabrielle. Her father and those still left alive were in chains. The civilians were ordered to stay in their homes for the time being, while the crew of the Remnant cleared out any more pirates and began unloading their ship and securing their new land.

Blaise had enough of Balon though. "When your king hears of how you attacked us unprovoked, he'll probably thank us for being so merciful if he even cares about Pyke. You're lucky you're of more use to us alive. Otherwise, I would put a blade on your face myself, though that might be a mercy considering what you might face from our interrogators. But for the time being, you're going to the dungeons while we finish taking control over Pyke and sending messages out by raven to make our conquest legitimate."

"They'll gather armies in the tens of thousands to drive you back, invader! We'll ha-" Balon was cut short.

 _Wham!_

Terry Boot had raised his foot and "booted" Balon in the head with his steel toe-capped boots, knocking him out with a single blow. "Bastard's been shouting since we took him into custody. Been getting on my nerves."

The bay leading into Pyke was filled with charred wreckage and on the dock was the Remnant with several dozen people organizing the unloading of the magical creatures and other luggage. But in Pyke, Harry was meeting with a person known as a "maester", in order to send a message, first, to the North by recommendation of the maester himself.

"So this Lord Stark, you say he is a sensible person?" asked Harry.

The maester was a little nervous considering that Pyke had been conquered in just a few hours by this man and his forces but their civility had been a pleasant surprise.

"Yes, my lord. He's a good man. If you make things known to him about what transpired here, he can clear things up with King Robert," explained the maester.

"Please, let us dispense with the titles. Tell me, why shouldn't I go to your king first? Surely that would be most sensible," asked Harry.

"The king is, well, not the most even-tempered person. If you can get Lord Stark to vouch for you, it will carry a great weight with the king."

"Very well. I'll be bringing you a letter shortly to see if I can speak with Lord Stark as soon as possible. The last thing I wish to do is turn the entire of Westeros against us. We don't want war but, as you know, Lord Greyjoy forced our hand," muttered Harry grimly.

"Of course. Lord Balon has ever been one of the more aggressive Lords of Pyke. He even reinstated the policy of raiding again."

Harry thanked the maester for showing him the raven's roost and the two went back down the tower, locking the door behind them.

Harry knew by taking Pyke, even if attacked first, he was treading on dangerous waters. If he could convince Lord Stark of his position, and if he carried as much weight with the king as what he had been told, then Harry could avoid an all-out war and still keep the Iron Islands, maybe even become one of the high lords of Westeros if he played his cards right. But for now, it was time to rest and secure their new home. After all, the wizards had now come to Westeros.

 **( - )**

 **AN: Duh Duh Duhhhhh! Hope you enjoyed it, will probably try and update one of my other stories next. But the next update should hopefully be soon. I can only update as fast as I write and I can only do that if I am motivated and have free time.**

 **Anyway please review, I love hearing your opinion even if it goes against mine it is interesting. I also love your ideas about what could happen, there are some brilliant ones that some have posted.**

 **So please review.**

 **Until next time.**

 **Update 2018, thanks to my beta writer Foxmac this chapter has been betaed.**

 **Seagate out.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Well look who came back with an update, I would just like to tell you that I am sorry for the really long time between updates. Hopefully the next time I update it will be not be as long as it was this time.**

 **Anyway some of the reviews I received had some really good ideas which was awesome. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones as if I did I would do a few things differently in both of them, which is kind of why I am writing fanfiction if you think about it.**

 **So without any further a do please enjoy the chapter ahead as I kind of wrote it all today after scrapping my old chapter as I just could not get it right.**

 **( - )**

 **(Last Time)**

 _"So this Lord Stark, you say he is a sensible person?" asked Harry._

 _The maester was a little nervous considering that Pyke had been conquered in just a few hours by this man and his forces but their civility had been a pleasant surprise._

 _"Yes, my lord. He's a good man. If you make things known to him about what transpired here, he can clear things up with King Robert," explained the maester._

 _"Please, let us dispense with the titles. Tell me, why shouldn't I go to your king first? Surely that would be most sensible," asked Harry._

 _"The king is, well, not the most even-tempered person. If you can get Lord Stark to vouch for you, it will carry a great weight with the king."_

 _"Very well. I'll be bringing you a letter shortly to see if I can speak with Lord Stark as soon as possible. The last thing I wish to do is turn the entire of Westeros against us. We don't want war but, as you know, Lord Greyjoy forced our hand," muttered Harry grimly._

 _"Of course. Lord Balon has ever been one of the more aggressive Lords of Pyke. He even reinstated the policy of raiding again."_

 _Harry thanked the maester for showing him the raven's roost and the two went back down the tower, locking the door behind them._

 _Harry knew by taking Pyke, even if attacked first, he was treading on dangerous waters. If he could convince Lord Stark of his position, and if he carried as much weight with the king as what he had been told, then Harry could avoid an all-out war and still keep the Iron Islands, maybe even become one of the high lords of Westeros if he played his cards right. But for now, it was time to rest and secure their new home. After all, the wizards had now come to Westeros._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 5**

 **( - )**

 **(In Winterfell)**

Far in the north of Westeros, in a large walled city, a large black hawk made its way through the sky, dipping and diving along the air currents as it made its long journey from the Iron Islands to the city of Winterfell, home of House Stark, the Wardens of the North and one of the most powerful Houses in the Seven Kingdoms.

The hawk was soon received by a balding old man who wore a thick gray woolen robes and a chain with a number of links made of different metals around his neck. This was Maester Luwin, an advisor, teacher, and long-time servant to House Stark. Upon meeting the large black hawk, the maester noticed a small scroll tied to its leg. Pushing down his surprise over whoever sent the message by hawk as opposed to using a raven, Luwin quickly retrieved the scroll and noticed an unfamiliar seal on the wax holding it closed. The seal was one of a large, single-headed black dragon.

Pushing aside his confusion over who would use such a symbol, the maester quickly broke the seal and scanned through the message. This was not an uncommon thing as Luwin had been granted the authority by Lord Stark to read and filter the missives sent to him and orders them in terms of priority and necessity.

This time, however, upon reading the message, Luwin quickly made his way to where his lord was currently holding court, knowing that the news the missive held would require Lord Stark's immediate attention. As he hurriedly made his way from the ravenry where he had received the message, he did not notice the black hawk lift off from its perch with a great flap of its wings and began to follow Luwin, winging after him using the castle's high ceilings to its advantage.

The maester's journey through the halls of Winterfell and into the great hall was not a long one and was only made faster as Luwin burst into the room with a hobble, completely ignoring the looks he received for making such an unexpected entrance.

"Lord Stark! Lord Stark! Urgent news has arrived from the west, my lord!" Luwin shouted out as he quickly made his way to where Lord Eddard Stark was sitting on a large wooden chair on a slightly raised dais at the end of the great hall. The volume and urgency with which the usual calm and softly spoken man spoke seemed to draw looks of surprise than his abrupt entrance did.

Raising his dark eyebrow slightly, Lord Eddard Stark, head of House Stark, Warden of the North, shifted slightly in his chair when he saw his maester approach him. Luwin was usually a person who optimized the words calm and wise but here he was rushing towards him like he had the dogs of hell at his heels.

The interruption for Ned, as he liked to be called, however, was not an unwelcome one. He had been sitting on his heavy wooden chair for the best part of four hours, doing his duty as lord and listening to petitioners seeking his advice, help, or judgment. It was a duty he took with great seriousness but even for him four hours of listening to posturing nobles and complaining commoners was a stretch. Once again fixing his attention on the maester, the observant lord saw a scroll clutched in his hands which clearly held the news that had the man so flustered. His gaze, however, picked up a slight black blur that shot through the doorway soon after Luwin did. Following the direction of whatever it was, his eyes soon came to rest on an oversized hawk with inky black plumage, deadly looking golden claws, and sharp green eyes which seemed to meet his own gray eyes as he looked at the creature.

A black hawk, Ned Stark thought to himself as he continued to look at the bird that was now perched in the rafters of the great hall looking down on the proceedings with a watchful gaze. Maybe it is a sign of some sort?

Tearing his gaze away from the black hawk, Ned turned his attention to the harried looking maester as he approached where Ned was sitting. the man passing through the partially crowded hall with practiced ease. His curiosity getting the better of him, Ned decided to find out what this urgent news was and whether or not it would require him to clear the hall if necessary. "Maester Luwin, calm yourself. Now tell me what news that has you so concerned?"

Upon hearing the words spoken and the tone at which Ned said them, Luwin slowed down his pace slightly and with practiced ease wrestled back his composure as he continued to approach Lord Stark at a more sedate pace. Stepping onto the raised dais, the maester handed the rolled up missive to the lord with a slight bow before quickly summarizing what had happened that had him so concerned. "My lord, news has arrived from the Iron Islands. There has been an uprising!"

The instant he heard those words, Ned's previously open expression of curiosity hardened into a stoicism that had become almost a trademark of House Stark. The reasons for this were understandable as it was less than a decade ago that he heard similar words from his maester. The last time, it had led to a yearlong campaign that cost the lives of tens of thousands of armies from all of the Seven Kingdoms joined together to put down Greyjoy's rebellion. The reason for it lasting as long as it had despite the disparity in forces between the Ironborn and the rest of Westeros was due to their stronghold being almost completely unassailable and the Ironborn Fleet dominating the rest of Westeros' own.

Now deeply concerned over the content of the missive, Ned quickly unrolled the scroll and began reading the news within, completely unconcerned by the small crowd of people in the great hall who were all muttering to each other about what this could mean. With the most obvious reaction being the many suspicious looks the people in the hall began throwing at Ned's own ward, Theon Greyjoy. The current heir to the Iron Islands having heard the news had gone chalk white and almost unconsciously moved closer to his best friend, Ned's oldest son Robb.

As he began reading what was written on the message Ned's face went through a variety of emotions: first, concern; then surprise, anger, and finally, back to concern.

 **( - )**

 _To the honorable Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell,_

 _This missive has been sent to you from Lord Harry of the newly formed House of Albion, the new Lord of the Iron Islands. The message concerns the recent liberation of the Iron Islands from under the tyrannical rule of the disgraced House Greyjoy. For many years, we, the men of the Iron Islands, have toiled under the cruel reign of the Greyjoys and long have we suffered from their decision to rebel against the crown._

 _But now we will no longer suffer under the yoke of tyranny. Instead, we, as a delegation from many of the minor Houses, have gathered together to form a new great House, the House of Albion. Now we have risen up and put the corrupt Greyjoy rule down and already we have begun to strengthen our control over the Iron Islands._

 _This message has been sent to you as you are Warden of the North and would, thus, need to be notified of this new change in leadership. Something completely legitimate and in line with the treaty first signed when the Iron Islands were swallowed up into the Seven Kingdoms which gave the Ironborn the right to autonomously rule themselves within their own lands as long as they bowed down to the greater laws of the Seven Kingdoms._

 _I, Lord Harry Albion of the House of Albion, will be coming to Winterfell three days hence to come to an agreement with regards to House Albion's new and legitimate control over the Iron Islands. We act thus as we know of the honor and integrity of House Stark and trust that we will be treated with such upon our visit._

 _Regards,_

 _Lord Harry Albion_

 _Lord of the Iron Islands_

( - )

Setting down the missive on the table before him, Ned quickly processed what he had read with his heavy brow furrowing as he thought hard about what this meant and how he should react to it. Looking up, he saw the many people in the hall looking at him questioningly. Some still muttering and whispering to each other as they took note of his reaction. Clearing his throat, Ned fixed all the watching courtiers with a flat look before stating, without a hint of hesitation, "Out! All of you out! All but Maester Luwin. The rest of you leave. I will continue this session on the morrow for I have a more pressing issue!"

Upon hearing those words and seeing the Northern Lord's flat stare, many minor nobles, guards, and occasional commoner swiftly retreated from the hall. Within a few minutes, the only people still in the room was Lord Stark, Maester Luwin, and the two young men, Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy, both of whom had stubborn looks on their faces.

Seeing that the two boys had remained, Ned's brow furrowed even further in annoyance. He had always treated the boys fairly and had encouraged them to think freely and be strong. But now was not the time for it. He had issued a clear command and this was one which he expected to be fully obeyed.

"I said everyone but Maester Luwin to leave," Ned said frowning at his obstinate son and ward as he did so.

"But, my lord, this is about the Iron Islands, and as its future lord, I have a right to know what has happened!" Theon said as he walked forward, his usual arrogance leaving him as he came face to face with the stony glare of Lord Stark.

"You may wait outside and I will discuss it with you and Robb later. But for now, leave," Ned replied his voice losing its previous harshness as he gave the boy a compromise, knowing from past experience about the fear of having his family in potential danger and not knowing what it would be.

"Yes, lord father," Robb finally spoke up as he grabbed Theon's shoulder and gave a little tug in the direction of the door. "Come on, Theon, you heard father. He will tell us as soon as he is finished here. The quicker we leave the quicker he will tell us."

Giving a stiff nod, Theon allowed Robb to pull him away, knowing that he would never win in a contest of will with Lord Stark but confident that the honorable lord would keep his word and tell him what had happened. "By your leave, my lord," Theon finally said before turning on his heel and following Robb as they left the great hall of Winterfell.

As soon as the two boys left the room, Ned turned to Luwin with a serious expression and his voice echoing slightly in the now empty room. "This uprising raises a concern as to who is this House of Albion and how legitimate is their claim over the Iron Islands."

"I have never heard of the name Albion before but that may not be surprising as from what I gathered from the message the House is newly formed from a number of smaller noble Houses," Luwin replied, his soft voice filled with curiosity and concern. "As for the legitimacy of their claim, that all depends on the final actions of Lord Balon. If he signed an agreement then this new House and their rule would be legitimate. What they said, after all, was true. The Iron Islands have a similar treaty with the Seven Kingdoms to Dorne to a lesser extent. But being able to form new Houses from existing ones would fall under their remit as would the leadership over the Iron Islands as the Islands are not a separate kingdom but only a minor province."

"Hmm," Ned replied as he thought about what he had heard. The fact that this could be legitimate and above board did settle his racing thoughts slightly but he was still concerned. Something like this could set a very dangerous precedent especially in lands where there were a great number of disillusioned minor families. If news of this got out, it would cause anarchy.

"So any action against this House Albion would be unwise, at least until we have a better idea of what is going on."

Nodding his head in agreement, Luwin replied, "That would be a wise choice, my lord, as this may turn out to be a benefit to us. It could add a restraining influence to the other high lords and cause them to act with more regard to the lesser Houses."

"Indeed, but first how many others know of the full contents of this letter?" Ned asked as he fixed Luwin with a glare.

"Only you and I, my lord. However, a number of the courtiers in the room know that there has been trouble on the Iron Islands. But if we act swiftly that can be contained," Maester Luwin advised, regretting his ill thought out statement that he gave Lord Stark when he summarized the message.

"It would have gotten out swiftly anyway no matter what. After all, the new Lord of the Iron Islands will be coming to Winterfell in three days' time," Ned replied waving off Maester Luwin's worries. "I will make a statement later, which will put their minds at ease and will stop any panic from ensuing."

"Yes, my lord. Although, the arrival of Lord Harry Albion concerns me as I have never heard the name before and am unsure of how this meeting may go," Luwin spoke up with a frown on his features knowing without a shadow of a doubt that there were thousands of sons of minor Houses whose names he didn't know. But for one such unknown to ascend to such a position without any notice was surprising.

"He is no doubt young and full of charisma and strength, much like Robert was when he was rebelling against the Targaryens. From reading his message, I believe he will be defensive about his newfound position but hopefully also willing to listen," Ned hypothesized as he thought about what this lord maybe like.

"Speaking of the king, my lord, should I send word to King Robert and Lord Jon Arryn about what has happened on the Iron Islands?" Maester Luwin asked cautiously as he watched Ned waiting for an answer.

"As much as I think of him as a brother, I think it best we hold from telling him as the letter says until we sort this matter out. Robert has always been . . . rash," responded Ned. He remembered, all too well, at the end of Robert's Rebellion, his long-time friend's reaction to the deaths of the Targaryen children. That was an image that was burned into Ned's memory. "But I doubt we would need to worry to unduly, Robert holds a deep-seated distrust and distaste for the Greyjoys and their ways. He has always had a soft spot for young rebels against corruption. No doubt, this Lord Harry would remind him of himself. But for now, hold off on sending a missive to the king. Let us deal with the internal ramifications before the external ones."

"As you say, Lord Stark. I will go back and see if any more messages have come in," Maester Luwin said, bowing to Ned before he left hall leaving Ned sitting on his heavy oak chair his arms resting on the table in front of him as he looked once again at the missive.

Up high in the rafters of the great hall, the hawk who had brought the news to Winterfell, continued to look down on the high lord below him. His sharp emerald green eyes not blinking as he shifted slightly on his perch. This continued for a few more seconds before the hawk seemed to lose interest and with a slight leap, took off again, swooping through the open archway that acted as a window to let light into what would normally be a dark and shadowy room.

So caught up was Ned in his thought that he did not even notice the hawk left. Even as he heaved himself to his feet and walked towards the closed doors, mentally preparing himself for what he knew would be an awkward conversation with the former heir to the Iron Islands, trying to hide his worry as he did so. As despite his words to Luwin to the contrary, he was, in fact, very worried about what he had read that was in part due to an admission he had made before that this Lord Harry seemed to have a number of striking similarities to a young Robert. Both of them had gathered the support of others before using that support to go against a powerful family who previously ruled the Iron Throne. He would only have to wait and see if this Harry acted the same way that Robert did when he gained power after a small nagging thought told Ned that Lord Harry Albion could potentially be many times more dangerous than Balon Greyjoy ever was.

 **( - )**

 **(Pyke, The Iron Islands)**

He could feel the icy cold air whipping around him as he flew through the sky with the wind buffeting his small streamline body as he flew through the air fighting against unpredictable current. As he did so, he couldn't help out but curse the fact that the wards surrounding the Iron Islands hadn't been completed yet. The goblins and a select few wizards had spent the last few days layering the islands under dozens of wards, putting the island under the Order of the Dragon's full control. These wards included proximity and a number of other types of wards including anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards. The wizards capable of apparition and making portkeys had not been keyed into the wards yet, which meant restricting them for the moment. Hence, why Harry was flying freely and without hesitation through to the incomplete wards in his animagus form of a hawk.

The reason for the wards taking so long was due to them coming across a rather unexpected problem within days of them making landfall in this world. The residents of the land or, at least, the people Westeros, were, by wizarding definitions, squibs. Now that did not mean they were similar to the squibs of Harry's world as their bodies were completely unadapted to wielding magic like wizards as they had no enhanced bone structures and muscles to deal with the stress magic could have on their bodies. Nor was their blood able to carry magic throughout their bodies like wizards were. But despite showing signs of having never been able to use magic, the muggles here had trace amounts of magic in their system. Which was the problem as when they had first arrived, the wizards had tried to set up their standard array of muggle repelling charms and anti-muggle wards. Only for them to be completely useless against the strange non-squib squibs, which caused much consternation among the Order and which also meant an overhaul of their usual wards as they tested the effects on the residents of the Iron Islands trying to find out what works and what does not work on them.

So, therefore, as the work was still currently ongoing, the wizards on the islands were slightly more restricted than usual, which led to Harry flying through the blustery sea winds as he made his way to the Order's main headquarters on Pyke.

No matter how troublesome the journey was, it had been necessary as Harry had wanted to see Lord Stark in person and to hear his opinion on Harry's letter. It had been simple really as all he had to do was tie a message to his leg and he was able to gain access to the castle and due to the Stark's guardsmen's insufficient exposure to magic, he had been able to observe everything without issue. Which was good as their ruse had been a risky one as, at first, Harry was tempted to just tell Lord Stark he had conquered the Iron Islands and that he should just deal with it. After which he would put the islands under a mass fidelius charm and that would be that. Luckily, he had actually stopped to think before he acted. Something he regularly did now as opposed to jumping in feet first like he used to when he was younger. After thinking it through, he had realized that cutting themselves off from Westeros place completely would be a mistake. Instead, they should integrate into it and become one of the ruling Houses. After all, one of the downfalls of wizarding Britain and the rest of the wizarding world really was that they had isolated themselves from the muggles. This meant that when trouble arrived and they had to speak to interact with the muggles, they couldn't, at least, not in a quick enough way to matter. This was precisely what Harry wanted to avoid happening again as he had brought his people here to make a new life, a better life; not to make the same mistakes as before.

After a few minutes of struggling through the wind, he was able to make it to the large stone castle of Pyke and through one of the windows. With a swirl of feathers, the black hawk that had landed on the stone floor of Pyke twisted and transformed to show the figure of Harry Potter dressed in a thick overcoat and his battle-scarred red dragon-hide armor, the patches of goblin-forged steel glinting in the light from the fire burning away merrily in the center of the room.

"I trust it went well?" the soft yet strong voice of Daphne Greengrass spoke out as she approached Harry, her blue eyes seeming to gleam as she took in his tired looking figure.

"Yes, he bought the lie hook line and sinker," Harry replied, sending Daphne a dashing smile as he saw her approach him. "And you doubted the brilliance of my plan."

"It was not your plan I doubted but the stupid name you decided to call our 'new House' and the risk you took with it," Daphne replied a slight smile tugging at her lips as she saw how happy Harry looked. The times he looked like that had been few and far between in the last couple of years of hell they had lived. "I mean, Harry Albion of House Albion? It just sounds so contrived and made up."

"How dare you," Harry mocked with a smile. "I will have you know I took the name from the story of Merlin and King Arthur. I mean, come on, Albion was the mythical holy land of magic. It sounds cool and if you think about it we are carving out a wizarding kingdom in a whole new world. So there are bound to be similarities."

"There is, indeed, truth in your words but must you really call yourself Harry Albion? It just sounds so odd," Daphne remarked with an exaggerated sigh of exasperation.

"Why, of course. I mean you heard how things work here as each land is ruled over by a powerful House like House Lannister in the west, House Arryn in the east, and the Starks in the north. We need a name that represents the Order and it must be a name that does not favor any one family or species. Albion is the mythical home of all wizarding beings," Harry replied his tone earnest as he once again tried to convey the logic behind his decision. It was something he had to do when he had first suggested it. So he was somewhat accomplished at arguing his point now. A point which was, unfortunately, a good one as no one had been able to come up with a reason to disagree, except over how silly the name sounded at first.

"Besides," he continued. "Daphne Albion it has a ring to it. Just think about it: Daphne and Harry Albion of House Albion against the world! Now you have to admit that sounds good."

As she heard Harry's last statement, a light dusting of pink covered Daphne's cheeks as she heard Harry mention them both sharing a name. Marriage was something they had never before discussed when they had become lovers as the world was in anarchy and they didn't even know if they would live the next day let alone be alive to marry. But now in this new world they had come to, a whole range of possibilities opened themselves up, and they were possibilities that she would grasp with both hands.

"So how have things been since my absence?" an oblivious Harry asked as he took Daphne's silence as acceptance over not being able to dispute the logic of his words.

"Hmm?" Daphne said as she returned to the present, slightly startled as she heard Harry ask her a question. "Oh, well, things are going well. We have absolute control over six of the seven major islands in the archipelago with only Old Wyk standing against us. But that will soon be over as Blaise and a detachment of eighty wizards are on the island now preparing to lay siege to the largest of the rebel strongholds there."

"Good. Good," Harry said as he moved through the room and sat in a worn leather armchair that he had stuffed in one of his trunks when he came over. "With Blaise in command, I'm sure the enemy will soon be defeated. I take it he does know that mercy is to be shown to women, children, and the innocent menfolk wherever possible?"

"Indeed, along with a good number of the rest of the Order decided to make that absolutely clear. I may have to mention your name a number of times though as you're really the only person he listens to without question," Daphne replied as she took out her wand, or, well, her second wand as, like Harry and a number of others, she had used the same ritual that bound her first wand into her right forearm allowing her to do wandless magic with her right hand with the cost being the sacrifice of her first wand. With a slight twirl of her second-hand wand, which she used for the more complicated pieces of magic, she conjured a chair of her own. Unlike Harry's worn old leather one, Daphne's was a throne-like chair made out of granite with velvet cushions embedded into the rock to make it more comfortable.

"That's fine. What of the unloading of the ship? Last I heard Hagrid had managed to get the wizarding beasts off of the boat and with the help of the centaurs had moved them to the smallest of the Iron Islands to care for them," Harry replied as he gave Daphne's chair a speculative glance wondering over the symbolism of it.

"Yes, he has finished and the goblins have already adapted and expanded one of the strongholds on the island called Great Wyk so Hagrid and the centaurs can use it to look after and breed the animals. Neville has also taken over a large section of the same island and with a score or two of centaurs and wizards has begun planting the magical clippings he has for his plants. From what I heard, he was gushing about how rich in magic the soil is here. After which, he told me that he would be able to make the island not just self-sufficient in terms of vegetation and food but he will probably be able to grow us a surplus of which can be used for trading," Daphne said in response to Harry, her answer garnering much interest from the man as the thought of making the Iron Islands into a trading empire to gain political and economic power in this new world began swirling through his head.

"Really? That would be brilliant. What about the goblins though? What have our long-fingered friends been up to in my absence?" Harry asked with an amused look on his face. Despite being allies and good friends with the goblins, he still had an air of suspicion over their motives sometimes. He knew they were not a danger to any wizard; the wizarding oath all the members of the alliance swore made him confident about that. It was the damage they may cause to his plans for the Order's position in this world that concerned him.

"I wouldn't worry too much about the goblins," Daphne replied to Harry knowing about his conflicted feelings regarding them. "They seemed to have found their own niche. From what I understand, they have not just been reinforcing the existing strongholds and fortification on the island with their runes, they have also set up a couple of completely new strongholds of their own. From what I gather, they have started mining some of the more mountainous areas on the island, putting the prisoners we gave them, the ones who were guilty of either rape or murder, and set them to work off their debts in the goblins new mines. Apparently, the island is rich in minerals and the goblins are going to reopen their forges soon and start taking advantage of it. I do feel sorry for their prisoners though as I doubt many are going to survive a year under the goblins' tender care, considering their crimes they probably deserve it."

"I would agree with you there. After all, if they hadn't been given to the goblins, I would have them all executed anyway. At least this way, they can do something useful to society before they die. I tell you that if I were to hear another one of them banging on about being sent to the Wall, I would have bloody blasted them into pieces," Harry replied with a grimace as he thought about scum like those men.

"True. Some more good news though as I just heard a few minutes before you arrived that Fred and George have come up with an interesting idea for how to make up for the native's numerical superiority in this world," Daphne began as she stood up from her chair, offering Harry her hand as she did so.

"Good, because as it is at the moment, we're outnumbered many times over. Anything that begins to make up for that would be useful," Harry replied as he took Daphne's hand and allowed her to pull him up from his comfortable chair. "Now let's go see what fresh hell those two maniacs have come up with."

 **( - )**

 **(In King's Landing)**

The great southern city of King's Landing, the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms and home of King Robert Baratheon. The city was expansive with thousands of stone houses packed closely together due to all being crammed behind the large and slightly derelict walls that protected the city. The city was as chaotic as ever as commoners flooded the street buying and selling their wares as they went about the ever monotonous task of living their lives. Within the city, in a large building in the more affluent part of it, a small, thin man with dark hair and weasel-like face was sitting in his office hunched over his large gaudily decorated mahogany desk seemingly looking over a number of recently received reports. This man was Petyr Baelish, a member of the King's Small Council and Master of Coin. Whilst on the outside he looked calm and collected, on the inside he was very irritated. The reason being is that almost two weeks ago he lost all contact with his spies on the Iron Islands. It wasn't just that he had lost one of his informants, as another would have told him. It was that, out of the blue, everyone had gone silent. He had sent inquiries but those too were met with silence. No letters or coded messages.

Nothing.

Which for someone like Petyr was agonizingly frustrating as he was used to being the man in the know for it was how he had gained the power and influence he now possessed. The information network he created allowed him to know what was going on in any one of the great Houses of Westeros at any time, which gave him the knowledge he needed to work his plans on those fools who looked down on him. His network was the second greatest in the kingdom, second only to Varys', the Master of Whispers, own. As, unlike the eunuch spymaster, his spies were only in the main cities of Westeros and didn't extend anywhere near as far as Varys', with his main hold being here in King's Landing where he runs his three brothels.

Therefore, the fact that his spies had gone silent especially in an area that was renowned for its rebellious nature was very annoying. Even so, he had to keep himself composed about this, though it was troubling that neither he nor Varys had heard anything from the Iron Islands. There had been some reports that Balon was getting back into funding raiders but nothing had been reported from the seaside villages and towns. Perhaps he was building up his fleet for one big strike all along the coast? Baelish just didn't know. Not yet at least. If he had to, he may have to move a few of his agents out of King's Landing, which for the moment was not a problem as his plans for the House Arryn were still currently in the early stages.

It was as Baelish was plotting at his desk that a message was brought to him. Apparently, one of his spies in Winterfell had heard something that would interest him. Reaching out and taking the coded message from one of the menservants who worked for him, Baelish swiftly unrolled the scroll hoping for some good news to put him in a better frame of mind. Quickly scanning through the message, his well-structured mind automatically decoding it as he went. His pointed face twisted up as a nasty smile spread across his face.

Leaning back in his chair, Baelish smirked. The message he had just received told him some interesting news. Apparently, the reason his spies had gone silent on the Iron Islands was that there had been an uprising of some sort. Whether this was an internal revolt or a full-blown rebellion against the kingdom like before Petyr did not know. Either way, the information could be useful. If there was an internal struggle, a word in the right ear and an offer of aid could provide him with a fleet of some of the best ships in the land, which, in a country like Westeros, navies were in short supply. A spare fleet would come in real handy. If, however, it was a full-blown rebellion against the kingdom, he could use that one to either gain favor by informing King Robert before anyone else or by contacting Lord Balon and encouraging him to hold off on his rebellion until a more opportune time. No matter what, the information could prove useful, especially the fact that a representative from the Iron Islands would be meeting with Lord Stark in a few days' time. It was just a pity that he would not be there personally. But even so, here at court, a few well-placed words in the right ears and he could make it sounds like there would soon be open rebellion.

Oh, the possibilities, Baelish thought as he steepled his finger under his chin, his wicked little mind spinning with all the ways he could turn this to his advantage.

 **( - )**

 **(Far Out to Sea)**

The sun was swiftly lowering behind the horizon as night began to fall across the land. The great orb of fire sending the last rays of its life-giving light across water giving it an almost mystical appearance.

The peaceful tranquility of the sea was soon interrupted, however, by an explosion of water as something erupted from beneath the waves. The water bubbled as the remains of a ship rose to the surface with a few dead bodies appearing on the surface. Meat that would soon feed the birds and scavengers of the sea.

Far below the surface of the water, a glowing blue portal flickered briefly before it disappeared. The water around it exploding in a large funnel that erupted from the surface, tearing the last remaining bits of pieces of what had once been a ship.

Just as the water was beginning to settle, something else emerged. A chest made of a gold-colored metal, its surface covered in archaic carvings that pulsed a faint blue. On the lid of the chest, was a crest carved into the metal of a phoenix wreathed in fire.

 **( - )**

 **AN: So I hope you all enjoyed the chapter the run up has been long enough after all. Hopefully I will be able to get the next chapter out in a couple of weeks.**

 **So anyway I hope you enjoyed my chapter, I also hope that my chapter raised a few questions for you.**

 **Such as:**

 **How will Harry and Neds meeting go, will it be positive or negative.**

 **What is Baelish up to.**

 **Who were those people at the end.**

 **What is Fred and Georges idea etc.**

 **Some of them you will probably guess and some of them you would never see coming. So anyway you have all that to look forward to in the next episode of... The Road to Hell...**

 **Yeah even I know that was lame hahaha.**

 **BTWs the second group of magicals will not be a main focus and are going to be there for a reason, suffice to say they are not going to take away from Harry and his lot who will still remain the major focus for the entire story.**

 **Update 28/02/2017, I thought I would give a nod of the head to those who thought the Order should die.**

 **Anyway hoped you all enjoyed the chapter.**

 **See ya next time.**

 **Update 2018, this chapter has now been betaed thanks to my beta writer Foxmac.**

 **Seagate out.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: And so here we are again, even I was surprised I managed to get this out so promptly, I just kind of grabbed a spare two hours and wrote, and by the time I was done the chapter was to. So yeah that is pretty awesome.**

 **Right a few things to say before you start, a lot of people expressed concern over how I introduced another faction of magicals. I would just like to say I have put them in for a reason, they won't be having a real impact on the story till later and even then the main focus is on Harry and his group. I would also like to say in response to one review I got that I don't purposefully bash characters, I merely portray their characters in a way I think they would realistically act in the given situation.**

 **So I hope that helped as I would like to think I don't do just random things in a story, and that everything in it has been done for a reason.**

 **So anyway please enjoy the new chapter.**

 **Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones, after all if I did this would technically not actually be a fanfic.**

 **Chapter 6**

 **( - )**

 **(With Blaise on the Iron Islands)**

It was cold here, almost bitterly so Blaise Zabini thought as he looked over the bleak grey landscape of the island of Old Wyk. Looking up he could see the previously steel grey clouds begin to darken, a herald to another storm no doubt. Looking down from the sky Blaise's one remaining eye came to rest on a large stone fort that rest in a slight dip in the rocky terrain. It was a big bastard of a building made of large blocks of stone hewn from the surrounding area, the fort was clearly built for defense not aesthetics. As he looked down on it Blaise could not help but feel scorn, this was Fort Amol the ancestral home of House Drumm and the last remaining bastion of resistance to the Order's absolute rule on the Iron Islands.

Looking around him Blaise's eye took in the three dozen wizards he had been assigned to pacify this last stronghold. With the orders from Daphne being to wipe out any resistance but to spare innocence's when possible. That last bit had made him sneer to himself, if there is one thing Blaise had learned it was that there were no innocence's everyone and everything was guilty of one thing or another. But despite his feeling on the matter he would obey them, if only because he knew that it was what Harry would want, and if there was one thing that was absolute fact to Blaise it was 'what Harry said went', he would happily follow that man into hell itself, that was a fact.

Blaise was soon knocked out of his thoughts by the arrival of one of his subordinates, a fresh-faced young lad who looked to have seen little combat. Which was no doubt the reason why he had been assigned to Blaise for this mission. Turning to face the boy Blaise smirked to himself as he saw him flinch, no doubt unnerved by the black metal mask Blaise wore to keep his horrific injures covered.

"What do you want boy!" Blaise spat out his single visible eye gleaming as he looked down on the boy of barely sixteen before him.

"E-er sir I the others sent me over, they told me, to tell you that the spell was ready and that the sixteen chosen wizards are now in place." The boy replied shakily, his eyes studiously trying flickering around so he didn't stare at the steel mask that covered Blaise's face.

"Good!" Blaise grunted back before turning his gaze back to the fort below him taking into account the numerous figures that scurried around rebel stronghold like ants. Raising his right arm into the darkening sky Blaise sent a blast of red sparks flying from his palm and into the air.

As the sparks flew into the sky the sixteen wizards who were standing in a large circle that surrounded the small fort, all of them standing just out of the range of bow fire, looked up and saw the signal. Drawing their wands all sixteen wizards began to wave them in identical patterns before thrusting them in the direction of Fort Amol. From all sixteen wands what looked like a thin wall of magic sprang forth, the magic quickly shooting both up and sideways. Within a matter of seconds the walls of magic met and merged, as they did so a large bubble of magic began to form over the fortress, the sight of it causing those inside to shout loudly as they gestured up at it.

Then there was silence as the bubble finished forming. Looking on in confusion the boy besides Blaise turned to the intimidating looking man and asked somewhat meekly. "Ermm sir what is that spell? And er... what does it do?"

Smirking as he heard the question Blaise decided to answer. "The spell is one of Harry Potters own creation and is the perfect siege spell for small strongholds. What it is, is a massive version of the 'bubblehead charm' only expanded. But although it is the bubblehead charm there is a difference, it has been reversed so instead of filtering oxygen from outside the bubble in, the spell takes oxygen from within the bubble and filters it out, and it does so very fast."

As the boy heard that his eyes widened I shock, quickly looking back down at the fort he saw the some of the effects already working even though it had been barely five minutes since the spell began. Down in the fort he could see the grass and trees standing still as though they had been caught in a vacuum, and the people in the fort, he could see them collapse to the floor clutching at their throats as they tried to draw in air that was no longer present. Fortunately though their suffering was swift as the people within quickly began losing consciousness and collapsed to the floor before dying.

Some of those in the fort who were still conscious try to hurl spears or other projectiles at bubble that surrounded what was quickly becoming their tomb. All their attempts however failed as the bubble had been created just outside of bow range. Which was a good thing too, as the weakness of this spell was that not only was it very tiring to cast but it could also be broken quite easily, all it would take was a single arrow successfully passing through the bubble wall and the spell would fail. Luckily though due to the brutal efficiency of the spell that had never happened as by the time people think to burst the bubble they are too weak from the loss of oxygen to succeed.

Looking away from the scene the boy instead turned to look at Blaise, who upon seeing the consequences of his actions was simply stood their looking on impassively. Opening his mouth the boy asked in a very shaky voice. "B-but what of the innocence's?"

Turning to look at the boy again Blaise replied somewhat harshly this time. "I gave them one chance when we arrived here, I told them that they could surrender or they would die and they refused. You only get one chance!"

 **( - )**

 **(Back at Pyke)**

"Ok so what is this amazing idea of yours?" Harry asked with a sigh as he entered the Weasley twin's makeshift workshop. A bemused looking Daphne following after him as looked around the twins den taking note of the piles of rubble and broken or discarded tools that seemed scattered around the chamber.

"Ah Harry your finally back from your holiday!" George said jovially as he looked up from the bench he was working on, dropping a sheaf of parchment covered in runic symbols as he did so.

"Did you go anywhere nice?" Fred said next as he entered the main chamber from an adjoining one.

"Did you get us a souvenir?" George added in before Harry could answer.

"Or was it a 'working' holiday?" Fred also commented.

"Bet he still had time to get Daphne a souvenir what do you say Fred?

"That's a fool's bet George!"

"I do believe your right Fred, quite the scoundrel isn't he"

"Enough." Harry said rubbing his head tiredly as he did so. "Just tell me what you want to tell me? I and a couple of others are going to be setting off for Winterfell very soon, as we have a meeting with Lord Stark."

"Yeah Fred stop your shenanigans!" Fred said pointing an accusing finger at George.

"Why I am not Fred I am George, so it should really be you who stops your dastardly shenanigans!" George replied in mock horror.

As this was going on Harry slowly withdrew his wand from the holster on his left wrist, giving it a few practice twirls before he raised it to point at the twins.

Sensing the oncoming danger both of the men ducked below cover and cowered behind a large work table as Harry released a barrage of stinging hexes in their direction.

"Me doth think Harry is somewhat ticked." Fred said to his brother, who instead of speaking merely nodded his head before conjuring a white flag and waving it above the table.

A few minutes later after much, over the top groveling from the twins Harry managed to get the gruesome twosome back to the matter at hand. With Harry and Daphne following behind the exuberant pair as they headed into a room that adjoined the main chamber, a room which looked like it had undergone a large number of magical expansions.

As they entered the room both Harry and Daphne saw a large human like figure in the middle of the room which was currently covered with a red sheet. The figure was large almost six and a half feet in height, with large shoulders which looked to be almost four feet wide. Their curiosity raised both Harry and Daphne approached the covered figure, with Fred and George eagerly running ahead.

"Ok you have my interest, just what the hell is this?" Harry asked curiously.

"The first of hopefully many." George replied before he gripped the sheet and with a single tug.

As the sheet came away it revealed a large humanoid golem made of rock. Looking closely one would be able to see multiple runes worked into the golem stone skin. But the most surprising thing about the golem was that it was almost entirely clad in plate metal, not goblin forged as that could interfere with the internal magical workings of the golem but still large plates of well crafted steel. All in all if you disregard the un-helmeted and faceless stone head the golem just looked like a particularly tall and broad knight.

"So what do you think? Took a while to make the prototype but with enough help and resources we could speed the process up." Fred said as he looked to Harry and Daphne.

"And if you add on the helmet we are in the middle of having made and a sword, this big bastard would completely blend in with other knights!" George added in eagerly as he too turned to Harry the defacto leader of the Order and Daphne his main confidant and partner.

As Harry looked up at the hulking armour clad stone warrior, fuelled by magic and controlled by the will of its master a large grin began to spread across his face. "Oh Fred, George, my old friends, do you know what you have created here?"

"Ermm a big stone killing machine?" George asked with curious look on his face.

"A cheap knock off of the statues and suits of armour that used to protect Hogwarts?" Fred asked assuming the worst.

"No lads, what you have made here is the tool of our victory." Harry said a feral smile now on his face as he turned to look at the twins, both of whom gained large grins of their own as they saw his reaction.

 **( - )**

 **(A day later on the way to Winterfell)**

It was early evening as Harry was once again made his journey north to Winterfell, only this time instead of travelling by air they were riding along a long winding road, he had been able to make a portkey which got them most of the way, however if they wanted to keep their cover they needed to travel he rest of the way to Winterfell on horseback. Which for Harry and his company was a strange experience after all they were used to riding on brooms or on thestrals, but riding on something as mundane as a horse was certainly an odd experience.

With Harry in his ambassadorial party, was of course Daphne his closest confidant and a master of subtle political manipulations and intrigue. He also had Neville along for the ride, his old friend having torn himself away from his precious project to plant all the magical cuttings and to also cultivate them. The large bear like man looked particularly amusing as his massive frame balanced precariously on a large warhorse, his form only made to look bigger by the full suit of goblin made plate armour he was wearing. Also accompanying the party was Seamus, Dean, Tracey Davis and the ever lovely Hannah Abbott who, like Daphne and Tracey was wearing dragonhide armour over the top of goblin forged chain mail. Overall their party was only small, however this was for a reason, the most important being that there was a lot of work to be done on the Iron Islands and they needed as many people work ing on them as possible. However the other reason was a more subtle one, after all if they were to show up to Winterfell in force they might be seen as aggressive and a threat, however if they turned up in small numbers it would show an amount of trust in the Starks and that the party was here for diplomacy and nothing else. It was a gamble though as the reaction to the small group could be either negative or positive, but it was a gamble Harry was willing to make especially after hearing the reason Daphne set out about why it would be a good idea.

Another person who had joined their group was Yara Greyjoy who was brought along as a show of good faith and as someone who would vouch for their legitimacy. Something she had hastily agreed to as it got her out of the cells in The Pyke where she had been languishing in relative comfort since she was captured. Another reason was that it might also pacify the Greyjoy heir and stop him from doing something that might incite hostility. As if there is one thing Harry learnt from his time in the wizarding world it was that sometimes the loudest voice can cause the most damage, even if that voice did come from a spineless worm like Draco Malfoy. After all, all it would take for this meeting to become nasty was for the Greyjoy to attempt to attack them, which would no doubt lead to the young Stark heir running to his aid and then before you know it there would be a fight which could lead to many dead northerners. After which Harry would have no choice but to obliviate and imperious the entire court of Winterfell which would not go unnoticed and could possibly bring war to Harry and his people once again. There was slim chance of it happening but it was still possible.

So far, the journey for Harry and his group had been relatively quiet, and the surroundings were decidedly more pleasant and less savage than the British countryside had become towards the end of the war. After all there were no roving bands of insane cannibal muggles or even worse Tainted Ones, instead the scenery was practically tranquil. The scenery and climate of the area they found themselves in reminded Harry almost painfully so of Scotland in winter, as they rode along he could almost imagine seeing Hogwarts perched somewhere among the rolling hills of the north.

It was for Harry at least the most peaceful journey he had, had in a long time, there was little to no danger and there was none of the desperation that their voyage into this world had. Overall it was nice and judging from the smiles and occasional burst of laughter from his fellows he was not the only one to think such.

"So Yara!" Harry called as he looked over to the former Ironborn captain who was at that moment perched uncomfortably on a horse of her own. "What do you make of the Starks?"

Upon hearing his voice the girl seemed to lurch slightly, taken by surprise, the action almost unhorsing her as she struggled to stay on the saddle, shooting Harry a glare as she did so. "What?"

"The Stark's Yara, what do you make of them, I mean from what I have heard you Greyjoy's have had dealings with them in the past." Harry replied jovially a smile on his face as he saw Yara's struggles wither steed.

"Weak and naïve." Yara remarked a hint of bitterness in her tone as she spoke, "They live in comfort in their big castle and have never had to fight for what they get like the Ironborn. They were born into what they received, they didn't pay the iron price like the Greyjoy's"

"Hmm, you don't like them then." Harry summarized a note of amusement in his voice as he did so. "Is that just because they defeated you rebellion or because they have never as you said 'paid the iron price'?"

"The Ironborn respect strength and power above all else it is how are society works, the Starks they are soft and so are looked down on with contempt." Yara said a frown on her face as she wondered why Harry was asking these questions.

"So does that mean that we have the respect of the natives of the Iron Islands? After all we conquered them and paid the iron price to do so?"Harry asked, trying to get a feel for how the Iron Island natives would feel about Harry and the Order. After all if he was going to change their savage society and forge them into a more prosperous, capable and enlightened society, the having their respect would go a long way.

Unfortunately though, a grunt and Yara ignoring his question was the only answer he received.

"Charming." Harry said in response before he turned to speak to Daphne who would no doubt be more receptive to his attempts at making conversation. Though that might be doubtful because at that moment her pale skin had a distinctly greenish hue to it, a clear sign that she was once again feeling nauseous, something that had been happening more and more over the last couple of weeks.

 **( - )**

 **(Winterfell)**

"Look, they're here!" A voice echoed around the main courtyard of Winterfell, the voice coming from a short boy of barely ten years as he sat perched upon one of the many tall towers that ringed Winterfell.

Looking up as he heard the shrill voice echo around the courtyard, Lord Eddard Stark could see his son, Bran sat precariously on one of the towers, once again the boy was climbing places he shouldn't. "Who's here Bran?"

"Those people that sent the letters to you father! They'll be at the gates shortly!" Cried the dark haired boy in a distinctly 'un-Stark' like way.

Upon hearing the news Ned's eyebrows furrowed. Though he had been informed of their coming he didn't think they would be so early, he was still unsure of what to expect of the man and his companions. He had often heard of The Game played in King's Landing, and wanted nothing to do with it, but now feared he may have to stumble through it to deal with this strange new Noble house. As although hearing of a new house forming was not a rare occurrence, hearing of a new Great House was. And Ned who was never particularly adept when it came to politics was not looking forward to the meeting ahead no matter how much it may be necessary for the peace of the realm.

It had been a bit chaotic the last few days at Winterfell especially after Ned had announced that a delegation from the newly formed Great House of the Iron Islands, House Albion would be coming. Since his announcement the entire keep had been in a mad rush as hunters were sent out to gather plenty of meat and food for the feast that would be held in for their guests, other Houses in the north had been informed with those within a few days ride sending members of their own to Winterfell. Also the garrison of Winterfell had been called out so that a show of strength good be shown to the incoming House.

Deciding what to do about their early guests Ned sent Bran off into the keep to get his wife Catelyn, his other children, Theon, and a few others to meet the guests. Guests who passed through main gates and into the courtyard just as Ned's family got themselves in place. When the gates opened, the small company that filed through left the residents of Winterfell surprised.

Harry led the procession through the gates, clad in goblin forged mail with his battle-scarred, red dragon hide armour which perfectly fitted his body. The plates of goblin made steel that covered his vital points gleaming in the mid morning sunlight. As he rode into Winterfell astride a large black warhorse he cut an impressive figure. Adding to his striking apparel was the Sword of Griffindor that he had sheathed at his side, the sword currently being in Harry's favoured form, the form of a long thin rapier.

Harry was not the only person whose appearance drew surprised looks, Daphne, Tracey and Hannah all also drew looks partly because they were all dressed in armour with swords hanging at their sides. But mostly because Daphne and to an extent the other two women gave off a distinctly unnatural aura of beauty and power, the combination of which managed to distract the majority of the party from a similar aura of power that naturally emanated from the other members of the delegation.

Ned however was not distracted by such things and his eyes narrowed slightly as they rested on the dark haired man who seemed to be the leader. He could tell just by looking at them that something was not right; it may be the way they moved or the lack of deference in their eyes when they looked around Winterfell and upon his family. Either way just the sight of them gave the Stark Lord a gut feeling that said only one thing, be wary.

The small procession of only eight soon came to a stop within the courtyard of Winterfell, and all the riders dismounted, with the two in the lead making their way to Ned and his family, one the black haired man in the red armour that looked almost like it was made of scales. The other a woman who took Ned's breath away, she like the man was dressed in chain mail and a scale like armour but unlike the man hers was made to also be beautiful, her armour seemed to show off every aspect of her lithe body accentuating her almost inhuman beauty. Raising his head to meet their eyes Ned almost had to take a step backwards, the woman had eyes like ice so cold they almost chilled him to the bone, but the man his were far worse they seemed almost like liquid as power seemed to swim in them, the distinct emerald of his eyes sometimes momentarily shifting to a deadly crimson red even as Ned watched. Again he felt that slight lurch in his gut that warned him to be careful, especially with these two.

 **(Winterfell Courtyard)**

As Harry and Daphne dismounted the rest of their party soon followed their lead, with Seamus and Dean let out slightly exaggerated sighs of pleasure as they finally found themselves back on their own two feet. Ignoring Dean and Seamus's moaning Harry and Daphne both stepped forward taking the lead as they made their way over to those whom Harry assumed was Stark and his family, after all the wolf fur cloaks and the deference shown to them by the surrounding people were good giveaways. As they approached Harry noticed that they got more than a few curious looks from those who were watching their arrival.

Within a few quick strides Harry right in front of the man he knew to be Eddard Stark, though looking down at him from the rafters was a very different experience to doing so on the ground. Especially when the large northern lord towered over him, being almost half a foot tall than him and being much broader in the shoulders, putting on his most charming smile, Harry decided to go in for a penny in for a pound as he stuck out his hand, and said, "The Lord Eddard Stark I presume? I am Lord Harry Albion and this is the Lady Daphne, it truly is an honour to meet you and to see the mighty stronghold of Winterfell."

Eddard Stark raised an eyebrow at the greeting it sounded right but something in the man's tone almost seemed mocking as if he knew what he was saying was bullshit but he said it anyway, however being the honorable man he was, Ned reached out and grasped Harry's hand in a firm handshake, once again feeling that uncomfortable lurch in his gut as he did so, a feeling that was only exacerbated when he looked down at Harry just in time to see his emerald eyes flash crimson momentarily. "Yes indeed and it is an honour to have the newly formed House of Albion here. More than a few people are curious about you and I look forward to putting some of those curiosities to rest."

Before anymore could be said between the two a loud voice cut through the relative quiet of the courtyard, the voice coming down the row from where Ned was standing.

"Where's my sister and father, invader!?" Theon Greyjoy shouted in outrage as he took a step forward, being stopped from going further by his friend Robb who chose that moment to put a hand on Theon's shoulder to stop him from doing anything to foolish.

Turning to look at the boy Harry saw the angry splotches of red that were on the boys face and saw his hand grasping at his hip as if he was trying to go for a sword that was not there. Reaching forward with legilimency it did not take long for Harry to recognize him as the boy Theon Greyjoy. Upon touching his mind Harry's mental probe was almost overwhelmed by the anger and bitterness that flowed through the boy, his emotions were burning so hot it made any deep probe all but impossible. Breaking his gaze with the boy Harry instead turned to give a rather bland look to Ned Stark, a part of him being curious of how the Lord famed for his honour would react to such an outburst.

As Ned felt the gaze of Lord Harry turning to him he quickly sent a thunderous look at Theon causing the boy to quiet down as he saw the anger in the normally stoic lords eyes. Once he assured himself that the boy was properly cowed Ned turned back to Harry a slightly pained look on his face as he started to try and explain the outburst, "That would be Theon Greyjoy my ward and the only remaining son of Balon Greyjoy. Before your revo… your rise to power he was the heir of the Iron Islands. Also he is Yara's younger brother and I am afraid that the suddenness of the situation has made him act irrationally." Ned said as he stumbled over a polite way to explain why the former heir was raging at the man who usurped him.

"It is fine Lord Stark after all I too still remember the follies of youth, if you would give me leave I may have a way to sooth the boys ruffled feathers." Harry said his eyes twinkling slightly as he thought of a way to put himself in Stark's good graces which might make his future negotiations go smoother.

Upon hearing Harry's words Ned gave a slightly apprehensive nod hoping that Harry could do as he said, but mentally preparing himself if things got violent. After all Theon was his ward and as such he was duty bounded to protect the boy, which would mean he would be honour bound to come to his defense if Harry harmed him.

Harry oblivious to Ned's Starks thoughts but aware of the slight tightening of his jaw and of his right hand which had come to almost unconsciously rest on the hilt of his sword. Walked across the now mostly silent courtyard approaching the source of the yelling as he did so, and upon coming face to face with him found a young man who looked similar to Yara being restrained by another young man who had similar facial features to Ned Stark, but with reddish hair as oppose to Ned Starks dark brown, 'Ned Stark's heir' Harry thought recognizing him for who he was instantly. "Calm yourself young Theon. Your sister is here in Winterfell in fact she is over with the others," Harry said indicating the cloaked figure of Yara with a gesture over his shoulder. The girl pulling down the hood she had put over her head to shelter her from the bitterly cold northern wind.

Theon looked, and for a moment, almost didn't recognize the young woman who was his sister, who had one of the members of the delegation, a very tall man with cropped brown hair and a hulking build, the man being clad in a glorious set of full plate armour with a black clack of his own draped around him. It was not exactly subtle that the large armoured man was obviously guarding her. She was silent, but from what Theon could tell, she jad not been harmed.

"See? She's fine. You can talk to her later if you wish, that is why I brought her after all as a show of good faith." Harry assured with a winning smile on his face. Far be it from him to stop a family reunion he did after all know the pain of losing his own. "Your father though is unfortunately a different story, he has a lot of crimes to answer for, crimes involving murder, theft and piracy, crimes which he has already admitted and for which he received the king's justice." Harry continued skirting around the exact details of Balon Greyjoys death; after all he was here to make friends not enemies.

Upon hearing his words Theon calmed slightly, the sight of his sister and the short comment about his father's death, making it so he could no longer deny the fact that his House had fallen and that the Iron Islands were now lost.

Turning on his heel Harry left the shell-shocked boy and instead went back to Ned a smile on his face. "Sorry about that. But as you can see, Yara Greyjoy is unharmed. She has been quite cooperative since we captured her and I have brought her along to show that my intentions are not hostile. And you must be Eddard Stark's wife, the Lady Catelyn, correct?" Harry said before giving a very slight bow towards the auburn haired woman who was standing next to Eddard, a charming smile stretching across his face as he did so.

Giving a slight curtsey to the Lord before her Catelyn tried to remain calm as the attention of the man in front of her and his odd companions rested on her, the usually unflappable woman feeling as if her soul was being stripped bare as Harry's eyes came to rest on her the slight glints of crimson in his gaze truly unnerving her, "Y-yes. I am _Lady_ Catelyn Stark, and these are my children," Catelyn's said before her voice strengthened slightly as she indicated towards the younger Starks. "My oldest, Robert, Sansa is my eldest daughter. Arya my youngest daughter, Brandon who has a penchant for trouble, and Rickon my youngest. Children, say hello to Lord Harry and Lady Daphne of House Albion?" The surname left Catelyn feeling odd about the name it sounded almost foreign to her tongue, but looking at the members of the Houses features they all looked like they were from the north.

The Stark children, ranging from seventeen to five, all greeted Harry and Daphne, with varying degrees to them. Robb who had released his grip on Theon's shoulder had taken a step forward and spoke with respect, as if from one future Lord to another, Sansa looking torn between disapproval and shock at the fact Daphne wore armour like a man was only able to give a curtsey as her voice left her. Arya ever the curious one looked at the two with awe forgetting to even curtsey or speak as she instead just gazed at Daphne in rapture, Bran with his mind somewhere else just stared at their strange armour, and Rickon only halfheartedly, greeted them before burrowing his head into his mother's gown.

Harry with a kindly smile stretching across his face, gave the assembled children a smile before giving a slightly flamboyant bow of his own and replying. "Truly a pleasure to meet you children of House Stark, truly you do your parents proud."

Smiling slightly at his response Catelyn gave the man a more genuine smile this time as she thank him for his praise, deciding as she did so that maybe this new Lord was not that bad.

The younger children like Rickon, Bran and Arya however all let out slight titters of laughter as they saw his flamboyant gesture, instantly categorizing him as fun, the younger ones being easily taken in by his friendliness and trusting him immediately.

Robb however was less easy as he narrowed his eyes at the gesture a bit unsure about what to do but deciding to go with his fathers judgment for now. A judgment which Ned had still not come to himself as he found himself still slightly unsettled by the odd Lord.

"But wait, did you forget one of your children? Who's the boy over there?" Daphne interrupted deciding to take a part in the game, having before just been analyzing the situation. As she unlike Harry picked up on how unsettled the Starks seemed to be by their group and coming to a conclusion why, after all it appeared the Starks may be more sensitive to magic than most and were thus picking up on the natural aura magical exude. Which is why she asked such a potentially awkward question, it would keep them off guard which would stop them from coming to any concrete conclusions on the group till later, when hopefully they will be charmed by Harry's charisma.

Upon hearing the question Ned gained an uncomfortable look before deciding to reply, even as Catelyn grew visibly upset as she shot a glare at the boy who was standing a little to close to her family for her liking. "That would be my, bastard. Jon Snow."

Hearing the reply Daphne nodded knowingly having heard of the way bastards were looked down on in this culture. Giving a mock apologetic look towards Catelyn she decided to answer. "Oh I see I apologize for any discomfort I might have caused Lady Stark."

Seeing the look and taking it at face value Catelyn graciously smiled at Daphne's apology before responding, "That is quite alright Lady Daphne, come you must be tired after you journey I will show you to the baths where you might take rest and relax."

"How very kind of you Lady Stark, the road has indeed been uncomfortable unused as we are to riding in armour." Daphne replied with a gentle smile on her face as she decided to take this as an opportunity to befriend Lady Stark. "Come Hannah and Tracey let us accept Lady Starks gracious offer."

"Yes my Lady." The two women replied as they approached both of them playing their part in this ongoing charade, the two soon joining Daphne as she followed Catelyn into Winterfell, a number of maids following after the group soon after.

"So Lord Stark," Harry said in a jovial tone as he kept an eye on Daphne and her group as they disappeared, unsure what she was up to, but trusting in her judgment, "I suppose we should get down to business?" He continued indicating the reason for why he and his company had come in the first place, and trying to get to it so they can avoid anymore distractions.

Nodding stiffly at the man's words Ned gestured for him to follow him into Winterfell, a number of Stark guardsmen following after him, after all you can never be too careful. Especially with the erratic way Harry seemed to act, he was almost scarily similar to Robert in that regards as he seemed to go through different moods so fast it was sometimes dizzying, the more he got to see of Harry the more he was reminded of his old friend, which was both a comfort and a worry to him, after all Robert was a good man and warrior, but not a good ruler. "Yes you are right Lord Harry come with me and we shall begin our discussion?"

Giving a nod Harry readily agreed to this and both the Lords went inside followed by a number of Stark guardsmen and Seamus and Dean who flanked Harry as he went inside.

 **(Back in the Courtyard)**

It had been a meeting Arya would not soon forget. These people who had formed a new Great House of Westeros and taken over the infamous Iron Island, who arrived in Winterfell so few in number, all of whom wore types and styles of armour that she had never seen before, even the women. They had been what had impressed Arya the most, these armoured women who when she saw them made her think of the Targeryen Queens of old. They walked around in armour with deadly weapons strapped at the waists and yet somehow managed to look more beautiful and nobler than any other woman Arya had ever seen.

Looking off in the direction they had disappeared Ayra turned to Jon with stars in her eyes, "Wow Jon did you see that!"

"Yes Arya I did." Jon replied as he too looked in the direction that Lord Harry had disappeared in. Something about the Lord confused him, when his father had mentioned that Jon was a bastard Harry didn't even batter an eye. Usually hearing of how the honourable Lord Stark had a bastard surprised people and would gain him a number of looks, or at least it usually did from any other Lord who came to visit. With most of the visitors to Winterfell tending to stare at him like they would an animal in a carnival. Lord Harry though didn't even glance at him, in fact none of them did, save for the Lady Daphne who gave him one cursory glance and that was it, and that bothered Jon. It was a reaction that was not normal and in Jon's mind anything so unusual should be met with suspicion.

"And did you see the sword that Lord Harry was holding? It was like a massive needle!" Arya continued to gush as she now focused on the unusual sword Harry had sheathed at his side.

"I have heard of something like it before Arya, it is like a sword I have heard of from Esso's. A sword made for stabbing not slashing, from what I heard it is a sword that needs speeds, accuracy and precision to use." Jon replied as he told Arya what he had heard once from a mercenary he had overheard in a tavern.

"Wow, do you think I could use a sword like that?" Arya replied as she stared after Harry, her eyes widening in delight as she heard of a sword and a type of style that did not rely on strength alone.

"Maybe, though I doubt you will find a teacher here in the north." Jon replied before deciding to express a thought of his own. "He looked quite a bit younger than I expected, not even thirty."

"Yeah but that is still old." Arya said in confusion as she wondered what point Jon was trying to make.

Shaking his head Jon decided to drop it as he instead slowly made his way over by the wall of Winterfell to observe the situation wanting to get out of the way, just in case Catelyn came back, as although his father's guests didn't seem bothered by his presence Lady Stark most assuredly was.

Whilst this discussion was going on Robb and Theon had instead gone over to see how Yara was doing, the woman who was currently at that moment being gurded by the large man in armour. Though if the way she was acting was any indication she was not to oppose to being in the man's presence. As for Rickon and Bran they had both run off to play at the first opportunity they had. Jon though, was now thinking about this Harry, thinking that this whole thing just felt a bit off.

 **(Inside Winterfell)**

As Eddard, Harry, and their assorted guards made their way through the great hall of Winterfell the two of them made polite small talk, as Ned gave a brief history of Winterfell to Harry who politely listened. As this was going on Harry was also keeping an eye on all the defensive and offensive the castle had to offer, storing what information he was able to glean away as it may be useful in the future. After a while they began to ascend and enter a stone room which had a roaring fire in the hearth and a heavy oak desk, this was where they would have their discussion, as they walked they found themselves joined by Eddard's Maester, Maester Luwin.

"Greetings Lord Albion, Lord Stark," greeted the Maester with a slight bow as he caught up to the two lords easily skirting around their armoured guards with practiced ease and coming to a stop just off to the side of them, his gaze on Harry for the most part as he looked at him like he was some mathematic problem to solve.

"Greetings as well," Harry said as he turned to the balding old man, his mind wandering slightly as he tried to remember his name, deciding to give it up he sent a subtle legilmency probe forward brushing against the Maester's mind, as he did so he felt a slight natural resistance that all the humans of this world had, no doubt as a by-product of their inherent magic. It was not strong enough to stop a skilled wizard like him but it was still a bit strange. Pulling back once he got the information he needed, Harry gave the Maester a smile as he decided to forged a slight bond of familiarity with the man, "Maester Luwin, and please I am not precious about titles call me Harry." He finished with a large smile on his face.

"My Lord surely such a thing is inappropriate." Luwin replied completely taken a back and put off guard by how open and friendly Harry was. Particularly taking into account that this was a man who had taken the Iron Islands from the clutches of the Greyjoys, the man no doubt having used force to do so.

"Nonsense, we are in the north are we not, let the southerners have their pomp and titles. I always believe a person should never hide behind his titles or wealth." Harry replied still smile to the surprised pair.

"That's a good way to see the world Lord Harry, but I am afraid we are not really familiar enough with each other to discard titles so easily." Ned finally spoke up a bit stiffly as he shot down Harry's suggestion. The man deciding that if he allowed them to get too familiar it could lend a bias towards his decision on what to do about the Iron Islands and Harry's usurpation.

Pushing back a scowl at being slapped down like that Harry instead kept on his winning smile as he accepted Ned Starks offer for him to sit. Taking a seat in a large wooden chair that was just in front of Lord Stark's desk, Ned taking his own seat as this happened, whilst Maester Luwin took out a scroll of parchment and a quill and began preparing to take notes. Around the room the guards for both sides spread out along the wall both sets eying each other warily. With Seamus's hand twitching as if he prepared to whip out his wand from his wrist holster at any given moment. Dean however was a bit more composed as he idly traced his finger along some of the runes which had been carved into the plates of goblin made armour he was wearing.

"Of course Lord Stark we are in your home and as such I will adhere to your wishes. Now for the matter at hand!" Harry said with a slightly forced smile, his right hand twitching slightly as it began to very faintly crackle with reddish lightning; at least it did before Harry's occulmency barriers slammed down help Harry to control his irritation.

Oblivious to his guests growing irritation Stark forged on ahead, unused to dealing with politics as he was he was quite happy with how amicably it was going so far. Giving his Maester a nod for him to begin his records, Lord Stark turned back to Harry with his ever-present stoic expression on his face.

"Yes you are indeed correct Lord Harry it would be best if we get to the reason for your visit. First an explanation is necessary about why this rebellion came about and how it ended with a new formed noble House taking power." Ned said with an expectant look on his face as he settled back in his chair.

"Well the story itself starts more than nine years ago at a time you will remember well I have no doubt Lord Stark." Harry said as he saw Eddards stoic façade crack momentarily as he thought back to that chaotic time. Hiding a smile Harry continued to spin his tall of lies and bullshit. "Back then I was a newly promoted captain of one of the ships that made up the Iron fleet, I was still young and still full of believe in the strength of the Iron Islands. And so I left my home on Old Wyk where my family a cadet branch of House Drumm resided, and with me I brought many other men, all of whom were my own age all of us full of the tales of battle and glory that awaited us."

Here Harry took a pause in his tale as he tried to feel the vibe of the room, all it took was a single glance to see he had those who were listening hanging on his every word. Forcing a grimace across his face Harry continued. "Suffice to say we were in for a rude awakening, the fleet was crushed and the homeland was under siege within a year of our great rebellion. Things were dark will not lie to you, and when it was over and our forces lay defeated at the hands of King Robert and his mighty armies I felt but one thing, I felt anger!"

Hearing that Ned Stark shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his worries were soon assuaged though as Harry continued his story.

"And that anger was not at the King and his forces as they had beaten use fair and square, and they had paid the iron price for their victory. No my anger was at the Greyjoys, the corrupt House who in their greed had brought the Iron Islands to the brink of destruction. That did not just lie in my heart it laid in the hearts of all who had suffered at the Greyjoys folly. Which was many, after all nearly an entire generation of Iron born were wiped out. And overtime that anger turned into righteous fury as these men, these men who led our people to their deaths till ruled over us, feeling none of the consequences over their actions." Harry said not needing to feign anger this time as his made up story was actually reminding him of his real anger over the incompetence of the Ministry of Magic's leadership and of how they went so long without getting payback for their actions, actions which led Harry's world to where it had been before he fled.

It appeared some of Harry's genuine anger was leaking over as many of the Stark guards began muttering between each other agreeing with Harry and the anger he felt. "Therefore with so many dissatisfied people it is not hard to see how support for change began to gather, which led to the formation of the House of Albion, a house that is made up of multiple minor Houses from throughout the Iron Islands, Houses that would usually be stepped on by the more powerful ones when isolated but when formed together into one great House they were more than powerful enough to wrest control of the Iron Islands from the tyrannical hands of the Greyjoys and their supporters. This of course led to our ascension and our subsequent visit to Winterfell to renew old agreements with the Wardens of the North and to try and build a stronger relationship with the other Houses of the north, something the Greyjoys failed to do before us."

After Harry finished speaking Ned Stark was silent for a moment as he leant back in his chair and thought about what he had heard. It made a lot of sense as having fought in a rebellion himself he knew of righteous fury against a corrupt ruling House, he also knew that the number of minor Houses in Westeros far outnumbered the large ones. What bothered him however was the formation of the House of Albion; at first he thought it was one of the existing Houses on the Iron Islands renaming themselves which although rare is not unheard of. But for it to be formed from a number of minor Houses gathering together, that was unprecedented, and even worse it was completely allowed due to the ancient treaty between the Iron Islands and the Seven Kingdoms. The Iron Islands had the rights to form new Houses it just had never been done by them before, and certainly not with a group of smaller Houses becoming one. Though there was some good in this Ned thought to himself as he kept his eye on Harry, the young Lord had been right after all about how the Iron Islands were very isolationist under the rule of the Greyjoys which could be seen as one of the reason why their rebellion had gained such momentum in the beginning.

Finally after a few minutes of thought Ned spoke his part, "And what of the Houses that ruled over the Iron Islands before you?"

Harry upon hearing that looked into the fire burning in the nearby hearth as he thought over his answer the fire light when his hit his eyes causing them to turn a deep crimson. Turning back to Ned and Maester Luwin ignoring the slight flinch the Maester made when he saw the look in Harry's eyes he decided to tell them the truth. "They will either accept the new regime and choose to work alongside us for the betterment of the Iron Islands. Or they will be purged from the land, their Houses destroyed and their lands taken from them."

This time Eddard to flinched as he saw a glint of insanity in Harry's emerald eyes his mind immediately taking him back to the same look he had seen in his best friend Robert's eyes as he looked down on the broken bodies of the Targaryen children. "Robert…" Ned whispered unconsciously before he quickly regained control of himself, though even as he did so he couldn't help but begin comparing the two in his head, they both had wild black hair and if he looked closely he could maybe pick out a few more similarities in their features. Shaking his head even as the thought occurred he decided to drop it as impossible, Harry was much to old to be any bastard of Roberts.

Sighing slightly Ned began to rub his head. "Lord Harry although I agree that everything you have done is legitimate via the Iron Islands treaty with the main lands. I fear in times like this news will need to be sent, both to the Small Council and to the King himself. This depending on the Kings thoughts on the matter could make things more complicated than they are now."

Immediately Harry became uncomfortable. This was something they had been hoping to avoid for the time being, he knew it would get out eventually. But he had been hoping that he would have had more time to establish himself both here in the North and maybe in the Reach. After all that way he would be able to have the backing of two of the kingdoms that were not completely beholden to the royal family. As the Crownlands and the Stormlands were for the most part loyal to Robert, whilst the Westerlands was ruled over by the Queens family and the Vale was ruled over by the Hand of the King.

"Lord Stark," Harry decided to speak up his eyes gleaming lightly as he made a slightly over the top gesture with his right hand to emphasis his point, subtle sending out a compulsion charm at the High Lord as he did so, "I have heard a number of… rumours shall I say, about the politics in King's Landing. And as a rather new Lord I do not have the contacts or allies that some of the more established Houses have. That is not to say that I do not understand the need for you to inform King Robert about the change in circumstances on the Iron Islands, But I would appreciate having more time to better establish the House of Albion before any trouble was brought to our door, so with that in mind as a known friend of the King would you be willing to make reference of your support of our House as the new rulers of the Iron Islands?"

It was a bold move and Harry knew it as he felt a connection between him and Ned Stark form, he was gambling that despite having magic in their systems the fact that they had not developed a way to use it and so would not have the sensitivity to realize what Harry was doing. As the connection formed Harry broadcasted only one thought, one word to Ned Stark, a word that would embody everything Harry was trying to compel him to do, he broadcasted the word trust.

Ned was feeling strange as he began to digest Harry's request, at first he had been going to refuse as he did not know enough about the situation to add his support. But that soon changed as he continued to look at Harry his mind feeling slightly foggy as he did so. Putting it down to the heat of the fire Eddard once again concentrated on Harry's request, the man seemed genuine, and after having been in a rebellion of his own he could understand some of where he was coming from. As those thoughts swirled around his head he made his decision, he would take a leap of faith and put his trust in Harry. "I see no problem with that Lord Harry, your words strike true and you have been completely honest with me so far. So with that in mind you have my word of honour that I will speak up for you in support."

As he heard that Harry quickly released his spell his own head aching from the effort it had taken to not only cast the spell but to also over whelm Lord Starks natural resistance to mental magic's. "That is very kind of you my Lord and an action I will not soon forget. After all for a Lord renowned for his honour such a pledge of support is gratefully accepted."

Blinking slightly as he felt the slightly muggy feeling leave Ned hummed in agreement with Harry's words. Blinking slightly as he sent the warm fire a slight glare he forcibly collected his composure taking a deep breath of air into his lungs as he did so Ned soon turned back to Harry and said. "It appears Lord Harry that the heat of the room is getting to me, would it perhaps be possible for us to take rest for now, perhaps we could finish this tomorrow if there is any more to discuss?"

Nodding with a smile on his face Harry stood from his seat and gave a very slight bow. "That would of course be fine Lord Stark, as I too am beginning to feel affected by the heat in the room."

As if on cue, a servant knocked on the door to let Lord Stark know that the feast was almost finished. News which the occupants of the room all greeted with enthusiasm as they followed after the servant, Ned and Harry walking side by side making idle small talk. One person however did not leave the room immediately; the balding Maester Luwin merely stood in the room a contemplative look on his face as he looked off in the direction the Lord of the Iron Islands had disappeared.

 **( - )**

 **(Within the Great Hall of Winterfell)**

Despite the initial tension between them, the Starks found themselves rather enjoying their time with their guests. Apparently Daphne and Catelyn had bonded with Daphne having easily used her natural charm to gain a stronger supporter within the Stark family. The Stark children to seemed to have but away any reservations and were plying the members of Harry's party with questions. Even Theon seemed to have calmed down, though that might be more to do with the large black eye he now sported courtesy of Yara, apparently he had started reprimanding her over her inability to keep the Iron Islands stable until he returned to take over. Which had not gone down well with the tough woman who according to Neville had knock Theon on his arse with a single punch, before following it up with a viscous kick to his crotch. Apparently it had done the trick as he was now sat in between his sister and his friend Robb, idly poking around at his meal with his knife.

As the feast continued and the conversation flowed Ned seemed to have a sudden thought as he turned to Harry and asked in a voice that carried to those closest to them. "So Lord Harry I just realized I never asked, what is the symbol and the words of House Albion we will need them for when we update our records?

Harry gave a friendly smile as he heard that having already thought on that himself, "Well that is an easy question to answer as we have already decided on them. The symbol of House Albion is that of a single black dragon on a white background."

Those sat close to Harry raised their eyebrows slightly at the bold decision, after all the Targaryen's crest had been of a three headed dragon, so although they were differences there were still some similarities.

"That may not go down well with Robert." Eddard said as he replied to Harry.

"Or he may love it and see it as the last remaining form of true identity the Targaryen's have being stripped from them just as he Robert stripped them of their power and rule." Harry replied a large grin on his face as he heard many of the people in the hall let out a great cheer at his statement whilst the rest just nodded along or weren't listening. After all the Targeryen;s had no friends in the north so any slight to them would be happily received.

"And knowing Robert as I do if it is explained to him in that manner he would love it." Eddard said knowing his words to be true, "What about the House words?"

"Ah those." Harry said with a loud bark of laughter before explaining. "The members of our House argued long and hard about the words, in fact it took us hours to come to a decision."

As she heard Harry speak Daphne let out a soft laugh of her own as she remembered some of the arguments they had over the words. As she did so she noticed that the attention had moved on to her now, instead of on Harry. With a smirk Daphne decided to tell them what she found so amusing. "There are a set of twins who are in the House and they were arguing over what our House's words should be. I was just remembering some of their suggestions."

As she finished she saw the expectant looks being sent her way, with another soft laugh she decided to tell them. "One such suggestion was that we make our House words; 'An Albion Always Pays Their debts.' As if we did that we would be able to steal away the Lannisters most used saying, as their own House words are 'Here Us Roar!'"

A number of the people around the table started laughing at that as they thought about how pissed off the Lannisters would be if that happened. Which soon led to a number of other sets of House words being suggested by the drunk revelers, these suggestions including; 'Summer is Coming!', 'Ours Is The Calm!' and 'Growing Hard!' All of which were mockeries of the other great Houses of Westeros and all receiving rounds of laughter especially the mockery of the House Stark words which the drunk nobles seemed to find hilarious even if the older Starks did not.

As the revelry finally came to a close and people started leaving or simply passing out where they sat, with the occasional partier not leaving alone much to the amusement of the people at the feast as they saw the figure of Neville Longbottom getting pulled by his manhood to his quarters by a slightly drunk Yara Greyjoy.

It was as the feast was breaking up that Ned was able to intercept Harry and Daphne as they made for their quarters the two of them getting quite intimate as their hands wandered over each other bodies and they traded soft sensual kisses. Walking up to the pair as they left the great hall a slightly tipsy Lord Eddard Stark asked Harry retreating figure. "Lord Harry, you never did tell me what your House words are!"

A slight bark of laughter was Harry's response before he turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder at Lord Stark. "The words of my house are quite simple they are 'ALBION RISES!'"

 **AN: So then I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it. And yes I know the house words are a bit corny but I also think they are kind of fitting if you think what Albion represents.**

 **Also I know some people maybe confused over the interaction between Harry and the Starks, I would just like to say that from my interpretation of things Ned Stark is cautious, easily manipulated but still to overly trusting to strangers. So I just couldn't see anyway that he would instantly trust Harry and his lot when they were not his friends and not his family.**

 **Also reading back on it I found it funny how this chapter seems to go from brutal to amusing to serious then back to amusing. Other people might not have seen it as I will admit I hav a weird sense of humour but I just thought it was kind of funny.**

 **If anyone has any questions on what they have read or any suggestions for what they think would be interesting to add into the story please speak up as I would love other peoples input.**

 **So anyway I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, please read and review.**

 **Will hopefully post the next chapter soon.**

 **Seagate.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: So damn it has been a while hasn't it. Sorry about that I should have published something before now but have just been distracted by other stories. I have also decided I need a beta reader, so if anyone is up for it give us a message. I am not sure how it works though as I have never had one before.**

 **So yeah the plot is advancing, there is probably going to be a few more chapters before it catches up with canon. At which point shit will really go down.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, Harry Potter or a Song of Ice an Fire.**

 **So yeah I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and it doesn't disappoint.**

 _ **(Last Time)**_

 _As the feast continued and the conversation flowed Ned seemed to have a sudden thought as he turned to Harry and asked in a voice that carried to those closest to them. "So Lord Harry I just realized I never asked, what is the symbol and the words of House Albion we will need them for when we update our records?_

 _Harry gave a friendly smile as he heard that having already thought on that himself, "Well that is an easy question to answer as we have already decided on them. The symbol of House Albion is that of a single black dragon on a white background."_

 _Those sat close to Harry raised their eyebrows slightly at the bold decision, after all the Targaryen's crest had been of a three headed dragon, so although they were differences there were still some similarities._

" _That may not go down well with Robert." Eddard said as he replied to Harry._

" _Or he may love it and see it as the last remaining form of true identity the Targaryen's have being stripped from them just as he Robert stripped them of their power and rule." Harry replied a large grin on his face as he heard many of the people in the hall let out a great cheer at his statement whilst the rest just nodded along or weren't listening. After all the Targaryen's had no friends in the north so any slight to them would be happily received._

" _And knowing Robert as I do if it is explained to him in that manner he would love it." Eddard said knowing his words to be true, "What about the House words?"_

" _Ah those." Harry said with a loud bark of laughter before explaining. "The members of our House argued long and hard about the words, in fact it took us hours to come to a decision."_

 _As she heard Harry speak Daphne let out a soft laugh of her own as she remembered some of the arguments they had over the words. As she did so she noticed that the attention had moved onto her now from Harry. With a smirk Daphne decided to tell them what she found so amusing. "There are a set of twins who are in the House and they were arguing over what our House's words should be. I was just remembering some of their suggestions."_

 _As she finished she saw the expectant looks being sent her way, with another soft laugh she decided to tell them. "One such suggestion was that we make our House words; 'An Albion Always Pays Their debts.' As if we did that we would be able to steal away the Lannisters most used saying, as their own House words are 'Here Us Roar!'"_

 _A number of the people around the table started laughing at that as they thought about how pissed off the Lannisters would be if that happened. Which soon led to a number of other sets of House words being suggested by the drunk revelers, these suggestions including; 'Summer is Coming!', 'Ours Is The Calm!' and 'Growing Hard!' All of which were mockeries of the other great Houses of Westeros and all receiving rounds of laughter especially the mockery of the House Stark words which the drunk nobles seemed to find hilarious even if the older Stark's did not._

 _As the revelry finally came to a close and people started leaving or simply passing out where they sat, with the occasional partier not leaving alone much to the amusement of the people at the feast as they saw the figure of Neville Longbottom getting pulled by his manhood to his quarters by a slightly drunk Yara Greyjoy._

 _It was as the feast was breaking up that Ned was able to intercept Harry and Daphne as they made for their quarters the two of them getting quite intimate as their hands wandered over each other bodies and they traded soft sensual kisses. Walking up to the pair as they left the great hall a slightly tipsy Lord Eddard Stark asked Harry retreating figure. "Lord Harry, you never did tell me what your House words are!"_

 _A slight bark of laughter was Harry's response before he turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder at Lord Stark. "The words of my house are quite simple they are 'ALBION RISES!'"_

 _ **( - )**_

 **Chapter 7**

 **( - )**

 **(With Ned Stark, Winterfell)**

Walking onto the balcony looking over the training yard the morning after the feast, a tired and slightly hung-over from the night before Ned Stark soon became aware of the clash of swords and loud cheers from below. Looking over the side of the wooden balcony he soon found the source of the loud disturbance, there stood in the centre of the yard, was the slight figure of Harry Albion, dressed in scale like leather and mail his head bare of any helmet or protection, a long thin blade in his hand as he faced down his opponent. The person he was facing however was a hulking figure of a man, who was made all the more massive by the heavy silver plate armour he was wearing, something which was a rarity even among knights let alone among the Iron Born. It did not take Ned long to realise who the heavily armoured man was, even if he did wear a helmet that covered his head and face, it was the man known as Neville, a soft spoken giant bear of a man.

Right now the two were going at each other with a ferocity that shocked Ned, after all the two were allies, and also close friends from what he had seen. Putting his surprise aside the northern Lord instead focused on the actual fight itself, and the remarkable skill both men fought with. Harry was darting around his sword a blur as he used it to deflect on coming strikes, before darting in delivering vicious jabs and stabs with the blade, all of which were aimed for the weak points of the armour; the knees, elbows and armpit. When he fought Harry seemed to keep in constant motion, dodging just as many sword strikes as he deflected, constantly keeping his opponent off guard as he almost seemed to dance around the man, a dance of death.

The other man, Neville's style of fighting though was much more familiar to Lord Stark, as it was a traditional style that he himself used. The man was wielding a great sword, a large gleaming silver blade that must have been as long as a man is tall. But yet the armour clad man was able to wield it with startling ease, using both his hands to slash and sweep the blade at Harry. The air making a thrumming sound as the blade cut through it. Yet despite his strength and obvious skill with the blade he had not managed to land a hit, the small, faster form of Harry always he dancing around his strikes or slightly deflecting it away with his thin sword.

Whilst the fight was going on a small crowd of spectators could be seen lined along the wall, all of them cheering for one or other of the men. Moving his attention over to the crowd, Ned was able to see the Lady Daphne with several of her companions watching the fight, the beautiful blonde woman's face showing amusement as she watched, instead of the shock he had expected at seeing such a brutal fight. She like her companions was once again wearing armour, with a sword sheathed at her hip. Looking over at her companions Ned could see the girl who was introduced as Yara Greyjoy among them, the brown haired girl currently shouting her encouragement at Neville telling him to; 'knock that skinny bastard in to the ground'.

Blinking slightly at the crude language he heard coming out of the young ladies mouth, Ned was about to turn his attention back to the fight again, before he noticed some other familiar spectators in the crowd. There stood to the side of the crowd looking on eagerly were his sons Robb and Bran, his daughter Arya and his ward Theon Greyjoy. All of whom were watching the ongoing fight with differing expressions; Arya just looked eager and excited as she watch two men sparring, Robb and Theon were both looking on with slightly arrogant looks on their faces, a look that was common for young men to have when they saw something they thought they could best, it was an arrogance born with youth and something they will hopefully grow out of as they mature. Bran however as he watched just had that star t struck look that he himself remembered having when he first watched a tournament as a boy.

Turning back to the ongoing fight Ned frowned slight, as he saw Jon Snow watching from the other side of the crowd, his face set in a similar way to Theon and Robb as he saw the two men going at each other with a skill and fury that would impress even veteran knights. He wasn't sure why Jon was stood alone, nor did he like the look he saw, it was the look of a man who thought he had something to prove.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

Harry grunted as he once again brought up the blade of Gryffindor, the thin goblin steel blade, vibrating unpleasantly as he once again used it to knock one of Neville's sword strikes away. The two of them had been sparring for almost an hour now and both were getting tired, as even using his ritual fueled strength fighting Neville was completely exhausting. He must have landed almost one hundred separate strikes with his rapier, and yet the blade was not able to pierce Neville's thick plate armour once, it had managed to get through the chain mail on his arms and knees but had not been able to do any real damage, Neville having been made immune to the effects of the blades Basilisk venom after Harry gave him Phoenix tears a few years ago after a training accident. It made him the perfect opponent for Harry to spar against, yet also his worst possible match up as the poisoned blade he relied on to finish of his opponents after even just a small nick, just did not work on him.

Opposite him he could hear Neville's heavy breathing, and could see the steam coming off of his armour. It appeared Harry wasn't the only exhausted one, as while he had not been moving around as much as Harry, Neville was clad in nearly a hundred kilograms of Goblin forged steel, plate armour, a weight that even for a giant of a man like Neville was a bit excessive. His exhaustion was probably not helped by the fact the chain mail on his legs and arms was dyed red, from the blood Harry's strikes had spilled.

"Hyah!" With another heave Neville swung his sword at Harry, the blade coming from high to low as it sort to bisect him.

Jumping back Harry didn't even try to deflect or block the blow, after all he maybe be stronger than the average man thanks to his rituals but compared to the hulk Neville he was still physically very weak. With a crashing sound Neville's blade dug into the slightly frozen earth of the training Yard almost a foot of the blade sliding into the ground.

Darting forward Harry took advantage of Neville's position as he put his right foot on the blade, trusting in the rune enhanced dragon hide, pushing up his left foot landed on the hilt of Neville's sword. A hilt that Neville soon let go of as he lunged backwards, subtly using a wandless banisher from his right hand as he tried to get some distance from Harry. That that it worked as Harry was already moving, having already lunged forward a faint barely visible shield of air having been formed in front of him courtesy of his own wandless magic. The shield blocked Neville's weak banisher, allowing Harry to continue with his attack, his right foot landing on Neville's armoured shoulder even as his left knee slammed into his helmet.

With a loud crashing sound Neville fell backwards, the blow having unbalanced him, and the weight of the armour having done all the rest. Landing on Neville's downed body with a heavy thud, Harry quickly whipped around his blade, the tip of it pointed at Neville's neck.

"Yield Nev!" Harry said tiredly as he looked down at his friend.

"Did you really have to knee me!?" Neville grunted from where he lay. When Harry didn't reply he let out a sigh and continued. "Alright I yield."

"Good." Harry said with a grin as he got off Neville, the smile widening as he heard the watching crowd burst into a round of cheers and applause. "As for the knee to the face… how else was I supposed to take you down, you're as durable as a damn dragon when you are in that armour!"

"You're just jealous that you can't wear plate armour, and instead have to stick to dragon hide." Neville replied a slight smile on his own face as Harry helped him to his feet. Taking his helmet off he revealed a very red face, which was bathed in sweat, it being so bad that his brown hair was plastered to his head.

"Hey I look cool!" Harry responded as he gestured downwards at his red dragon hide armour, and goblin steel chain mail. His armour may not have been as impregnable as Neville's which could probably withstand a small mountain being dropped on him, but it was still very tough, with the dragon hide being more than capable of turning away at least half a dozen sword blows before any real damage could be done.

"With the way you prance about like a ballerina I don't think so!" Was Neville's snarky response as he began rolling his shoulders, trying to ease the ache that came from wearing the armour to long.

"Still kicked you arse though." Harry mused as the two of them began making their way over to where their other companions were stood. "Though I suppose you will claim that you were tired from getting ridden by Yara all night, which was why you ended up losing!" Harry continued with a sly grin at Neville.

He dropped his helmet when he heard that, the man's face turning bright red as he tried to stutter a response. It was endearing in a way that for all Neville had grown up to be a fearsome and skilled warrior, maybe not as skilled with magic as he was with a sword, but deadly none the less. However underneath it all you could still see glimpses of the awkward, clumsy boy he used to be.

"Oh relax Nev, I think it is nice that you finally got yourself a girl. I mean, I thought you were going to die a virgin." Harry continued his smirk only growing as Neville's face slowly grew redder and redder.

"And if you're not careful you will never be with a woman again." A dry voice suddenly interrupted their discussion. Looking up the two found themselves facing an amused looking Daphne, whose eyes seemed to twinkle with delight at the expressions on both of their faces.

"Hey come on now Daph!" Harry said with a nervous chuckle scratching the back of his head nervously as he did so. Hearing a loud laugh to his side Harry looked over and saw a very amused looking Neville who was stilling walking alongside him as they approached Daphne. Looking over at big armoured man, Harry's eyes flashed red slightly, even as the gingers on his right hand twitched. With a loud crashing sound Neville once again fell on his back, as his foot unexpectedly slipped on a piece ground, that had somehow inexplicably frozen. Seeing this, the crowd burst out laughing, even as Nev started cursing at Harry.

"Harry," Daphne said as she looked over at him her lips twitching slightly in amusement.

Giving her a smile Harry walked over to the blonde before sweeping her into a deep kiss, getting him cheers and laughs from the rest of the crowd. He probably should have not used magic like he did in front of the people of Westeros no matter how subtle he was, but currently he was in a very good mood, things were going to plan. The Iron Islands were quickly being taken over and fortified by his people, and the Stark Lord now supported their rule, even if it had taken some persuasion of the magical kind. Soon enough they would meet with the King give him some meaningless non-magical oath of fealty and then they could start their new lives in this brand new world.

It was not him who was in a good mood, but the rest of his company to, after years of fear and constant fighting they were now on the cusp of peace. They had a permanent and fortified home now, a place where they could live prosperously and raise their families. It was a dream many among the Order of the Dragon had never thought would become a reality, but yet it was.

Pulling away from Daphne with a genuine smile on his face as he looked at the slight smirk on Daphne's own, Harry was suddenly distracted by a blur of motion as someone ran past him, heading for Neville.

Turning round Harry let loose a bark of laughter as he saw Yara Greyjoy helping Neville to his feet, as she did so the young woman could be seen scolding Neville for being clumsy.

"Ha! One night and he is already whipped!" Harry said with a laugh, Dean and Seamus joining in, Seamus making whipping noises as he did so.

"Oh really Harry, you say it as if you are not whipped." Daphne idly commented, making Harry cringe a bit as she did so, much to the amusement of the rest of their party.

Their amusement was soon ended though when they saw Robb Stark and his friend Theon Greyjoy approaching the group, with the younger Stark children following along behind them. A confident and smug look was on both of the older boy's faces as they approached, letting loose a sigh Harry took a step forward, having already guessed what the arrogant young men would want.

"That was an impressive showing Lord Albion." Robb said as he approached, the young wolf currently wearing leather training armour, with a castle forged steel sword sheathed at his hip. "Most impressive indeed, though your style is something I have never seen before."

"Thank you Robb, the fight was hard and I have no doubt it could have gone either way, Neville is after all a very skilled warrior." Harry replied sending a nod over at Nev as he came to stand with their group, his arm currently around Yara's shoulder.

"Yes but I think with your speed, especially against such a heavily armoured knight, you would have won either way." Robb continued as he came to a stop in front of Harry, with Theon standing just slightly behind him, the last remaining male Greyjoy, caught between leering hungrily at Daphne, glaring at Harry, or glaring at his sister.

"Years of practice." Harry said waving off the compliment as he did so.

"I am sure; I only wonder how you would match up against a more lightly armoured man." Robb commented idly, though he was given away by the challenging gleam in his eye.

"Are you asking for a spar?" Harry asked, deciding to just be blunt instead of dancing around the point.

"Yes, will you accept?" Robb replied, also giving up all pretenses of subtly.

"Sure why not but against which one you?" Harry said as he gestured between both Robb and Theon. As he did so, he also caught out of the corner of his eye Lord Stark approaching.

"Against me!" Theon suddenly interrupted his hand already clasped around the handle of his blade. "Let's see how you fair against the true Lord of the Iron Islands!"

"Careful boy!" Harry said warningly, even as his entourage stiffened slightly at the accusation in his tone.

""Hey Theon…" Robb began as he turned to his friend surprised by the anger in his voice.

But he was cut off as the Greyjoy began to draw his sword.

"What's the matter, not sure you could take a true Iron Born in combat!" Theon said brushing past Robb as he unsheathed his blade.

The comment gained him a snort from Yara as she heard his boast. But also silence from the watching crowd as they saw the ward of Lord Stark, draw a blade on his guest. Arya and Bran by this point were looking around with confusion, the two younger children not truly understanding just what Theon's problem was.

"Theon!" Ned Stark suddenly barked as he shouldered his way through the crowd, his bastard son Jon Snow following along behind. "What do you think you are doing?!"

Theon flinched as he heard the tone of Lord Stark's voice, his face twisting slightly in rage before he began to sheathe his blade. "Nothing my Lord, just offering to have a friendly spar."

"It's true father, we meant no insult to Lord Harry, we just were interested in his fighting and asked for a simple spar." Robb added in, his hand making its way to Theon's shoulder as he roughly pulled the other boy back.

Ned's stoic face seemed to tighten as he heard that, his cold grey eyes looking from his son to his ward as if trying to assess their honesty. Turning away from the two he instead looked over at Harry, his eyes drifting across his companions before coming to once again rest on Harry. "Is what my son said true Lord Albion?"

As he heard that Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about what he should say. If he called out Theon and Robb as liars then he would gain both of their enmity and his relationship with Lord Stark would no doubt sour slightly. But if he agreed with what Robb had said he would put the two boys in debt to him and would also not embarrass Lord Stark. Looking over at Daphne, he only received a nod from her.

"Why yes of course Lord Stark, the two boy's just got a bit too excited after seeing the spar. But it matters not; I would be more than happy to fight them!" Harry replied with a smile to the elder Stark.

"Very well then." Ned replied with a nod before he looked back at his son and ward. "And just which one of you will be sparring with Lord Albion?"

"Me!" They both said at the same time as they stepped forward.

"Facing both of them Harry, my you are feeling brave today." Daphne suddenly spoke up in a silky voice, her lips quirking into a slight smile as she saw Harry looking at her. "But I suppose it is only fair, after all you are a battle hardened veteran my Lord…"

Harry just blinked at that, his mouth open as he tried to form a response. Before he could though Lord Stark also spoke up, "Very well then, maybe facing a strong opponent in a fight will teach the two a lesson." He said with a nod, his comment getting a mutter from the crowd as they all started getting excited again, the crowd quickly making a large space in the centre of the training yard again. With an uncertain looking Robb and Theon walking in to the centre, as they tried to comprehend everything that had just happened.

"Good luck." Daphne said as she laid a soft kiss on Harry's cheek.

"You can be a real pain in the arse sometimes." Harry muttered to his lover, even as he saw her smirk.

"Have fun." She replied before pushing him off towards the centre.

"Is this really a good idea?" Neville muttered as he looked down at Daphne.

"The men of the South respect wealth and power, but the men of the North respect strength and honour. This may work in our favour, as it could win us the favour of some of the other nobles in the north. The Iron Islands at present are stained by the deeds of the Iron Born, and are not held in high regard by the other Houses in both the North and the South." Daphne said her voice low so that only those close to her could hear her. "If Harry were to defeat both the Greyjoy boy and the Heir of Winterfell in combat, both of whom are vaunted to be skilled, it would only help in solidifying our claims and strengthening our position."

"But wouldn't defeating them embarrass both of them?" Seamus asked slightly confused.

"You clearly don't know a lot about the North." Yara finally spoke up, "If he were to defeat them in fair combat he would gain their respect. But if he were to hold back against the, he would only humiliate them."

"I wouldn't worry about it." Daphne said with a slight smirk as she looked over at Harry. "Harry doesn't know how to hold back, he won't kill them or permanently injure them. But he won't go easy on them."

"I hope so." Neville muttered before he walked over to Harry as the dark haired man waved him over.

 **( - )**

As he walked into the centre of the training yard, Harry grumbled under his breath, he was still quite tired from his bout with Neville and was not in the mood for this shit. He blamed Daphne for this, he may love the girl, but she could act like a real Slytherin sometime. Looking up Harry's sharp gaze took note of the stance of the two young men he would be facing; the both of them now had their swords out and round shields bearing a dire wolf on their left arms. This was going to be a pain in the arse.

Harry was just about to draw his rapier, before a sudden thought occurred to him. The Sword of Gryffindor contained Basilisk venom and no matter how annoyed he might be, he didn't want to kill the two boys.

"Neville," He called as he took off his sword belt, wrapping the Basilisk skin belt around his sheathed blade. Turning he handed it over to Neville for safe keeping, before turning back to look at the now confused boys.

"Why did you give him your sword, surely you are not going to back out?" Robb asked in confusion.

"Or are you so arrogant you think you could take us out without a weapon." Theon chimed in, a dark scowl on his face as he looked at Harry.

"My style of fighting with that blade is very deadly, all it would take is one wrong move and you both could die. And I don't think Lord Stark would appreciate that." Harry replied using a half truth as he looked over at Lord Stark, receiving a nod of both agreement and appreciation from the man as he did so.

"But I wouldn't worry about it lads, I have more than one weapon." Harry continued as he reached behind him and from his back unsheathed two, foot long stiletto blades. Twirling them both in his hands he set himself in a ready position his body quite low to the ground, his blades now raised as he prepared to spar with the two cocky young men.

Seeing the two unfamiliar weapons Robb put himself on guard, raising his shield as he prepared himself for a defensive fight or at least a defensive one until he got the measure of Harry. Theon however just sneered at the small blades, his blade raised as he prepared to lunge forward.

"Alright then, remember this is just a spar and that you are using live steal, don't be stupid we don't want any accidents." Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell's Master at Arms, spoke out as he made his presence known. The corpulent, white haired man bulling his way into the centre of the yard, as he gave out his warning, more for Robb and Theon than Harry. "When I tell you to stop, you stop!" He continued as he looked at the combatants.

"Whatever." Theon grunted as he took a few practice swings with his sword.

Ignoring the boy, Rodrik instead turned to Lord Stark. Seeing him nod he called out. "Right then you can begin!"

Hearing that Theon instantly charged forward, swiping his blade at Harry as he did so. This turned out to be a mistake, as with a twist of his left blade, Harry got within Theon's guard and disarmed him. Following this up with a right elbow to the boy's sternum he went on to knock the air out of his lungs.

Sticking his right leg behind Theon's Harry and pushing forward, Harry then put Theon onto his back. Harry's armoured boot on his neck, even as Harry looked down coldly at him.

"When fighting an opponent, it is best if you don't just charge in." Harry said as he continued to look down. The watching crowd in stunned silence as they saw Theon taken down in seconds, Harry's group though let out a few cheers, which were quickly echoed by the other people watching.

Taking his foot off of the defeated Greyjoy, Harry now turned his attention back to the other boy, Robb, who had not moved since the fight started. Smirking slightly as he saw he caution in his eyes, Harry decided to take the offensive. Approaching the boy, Harry made feint towards him. The Stark heir responding by shoving his shield forward, attempting to bash Harry and knock him off guard.

This didn't work though as instead of allowing the shield to hit him, Harry instead spun around it his right blade raised for a back stabbing motion. The young wolf though lunged forward, pushing past Harry and avoiding the strike. Turning on his heel Harry was forced to step back to avoid Robb's counter attack. Raising his right foot, Harry used his ritual enhanced strength to boot his shield, the blow sending his shield crashing into his body and knocking him off guard. Taking advantage Harry darted in again, his left blade hooking the top of Robb's shield, even as he brought his right blade down on Robb's hand.

A smack from Harry's stiletto caused Robb to drop his sword and falter slightly in surprise. Something which Harry took advantage of by bringing his blade up so it pointed at Robb's throat.

"Yield?" Harry asked calmly as he kept Robb's shield trapped and a blade at his neck.

In reply Robb nodded somewhat stiffly.

Once again the crowd cheered, though it was a bit more subdued than before after seeing the heir of Winterfell defeated.

Clapping his hands together Ned Stark took a step forward nodding to Harry and his son as he did so. "That was a good fight; I have to say Lord Albion your skill with those knives was quite something to see, strange that an Iron Islander would use such odd weapons."

"Thank you Lord Stark, as for the weapons, we on the Iron Island are seafarers and sometimes travel far abroad. I ended up taking a shine to the exotic blades and bought them off of one of the sailors." Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Ned just nodded at that, before he looked over at Robb. "It was a good attempt son, you fought smartly, but were just outmatched."

"Father." Robb replied with a nod, before he gave a short bow to Harry. "Lord Albion."

"You're good kid, give it a few years and I bet you would give even your father a challenge." Harry said nodding his head to Robb, giving the boy a slight compliment to somewhat restore his wounded pride.

"Well Lord Albion, the cooks should; be done making the breakfast." Ned said as he began making his way to the main hall.

"Good, after all this exertion and I feeling somewhat hungry." Harry replied as he took up Ned's unspoken offer and followed him towards the great hall. The other nobles in the crowd following them in once they realised that there would be no more fights.

 **( - )**

The next several days at Winterfell past quite amicably as Ned extended an invitation to stay longer, so that he and Harry could better discuss Harry's new position and fill in any gaps he might have in his knowledge, after all Ned was still under the impression that Harry was a member of a cadet branch of House Drumm, and so would not be as well educated about the different houses as a member of one of the greater houses might be. It was an invitation Harry had been reluctant to accept as he had wanted to get back to the Iron Islands, unfortunately though Daphne had encouraged him to accept, telling him that building an honest and amicable relationship with the Warden's of the North would only benefit them. Especially since such an old house would contain a lot of knowledge on the other Houses and Kingdoms, much more than could be found in the Greyjoy's ancestral home.

Harry and the other members of his group had quickly got into a routine while being at Winterfell. Harry and Daphne would spend the late mornings either with the other members of their group sparring and training, or in discussions with Ned and Maester Luwin. Taking the opportunity to more more of the land beyond the Iron Islands and of the different factions and Houses, Luwin was more useful than Ned for some of this information, though the Stark Lord did have some information on the Hand of the King and the King. With Daphne and Harry sometimes having to gently coax these nuggets of information out of the stoic man, using a combination of Daphne's manipulations and Harry's magic. More often than not though, the Northern Lord gave the information freely as he seemed to be warming up to Harry and his group. Daphne would also take the time out of her day to engage the Lady Catelyn in conversation, the two women somewhat bonding as Catelyn quickly found herself charmed by Daphne's intelligence and nobility, turns out being a Slytherin did come in handy.

Neville often spent his time at Winterfell with Yara, the two having become something of an item. The two often walking through the grounds of Winterfell together discussing many things, and occasionally sparring together in the training yard, Yara delighting in having her sword and axe returned to her. It was a bit of an odd combination, the fiery and fierce Iron Born raider Yara, and the gentle and mild mannered Neville. Not that anyone would object as they also found themselves liking the girl.

The rest of Harry's group also found themselves things to do, as some like Seamus and Dean would just sit with some of the Stark guardsmen, drinking ale and reminiscing about told battles. Though, the two of them would often change aspects of their stories so that they wouldn't stand out as too foreign. That that any of the Stark guardsmen would notice as more often than not they would all just get hammered and start singing rude and boisterous songs. Dean would also sometimes find himself asked whether he was from the Summer Isles, which he would just say yes and then make up some over the top bullshit about his origins, the story changing with each telling and becoming more and more dramatic.

The Stark children had also found themselves more comfortable with the guests as more than once Robb would come up to challenge one of them when they were out in the training yard. Something one of them would accept, which would lead to a brief spar which often left Robb Stark on his arse. Not that it bothered him, as if anything it only made him more determined the next time he challenged them. Theon however had been studiously avoiding the entire group since his defeat, often leaving any room they were in.

The other younger Stark children had also shown interest in the 'Iron Islanders'. With both Bran and Arya approaching Harry, the both of them asking Harry to train them how to fight like he did. It turns out Bran didn't have the skill his older brother did when it came to fighting in the traditional Westerossi style, which had led to him wanting to learning Harry's style of fighting. Arya to had had her reasons as she had apparently approached Tracey Davis, Hannah Abbott and Daphne and asked them to train her as well, apparently in this world women were not expected to fight and were instead expected to be homemakers, with some of the women of the Iron Islands and Bear Islands being the exception to the general rule. Unfortunately Daphne had refused her request as she did not want to sour her budding friendship with Catelyn Stark by teaching her youngest daughter how to fight. Hannah too had rejected her, but that was more due to Hannah specializing in healing and support as oppose to offensive magic or fighting. Tracey however just had better things to do, she had after all been prowling for a new man to scratch her itch, as usually she had Michael Corner as a casual lover, but unfortunately he had been left behind on the Iron Islands.

So in the end both Arya and Bran had come to Harry, who like his lover and friend had ended up rejecting their request. Though this was mainly because it would be time consuming but also because he didn't want to, he had tried his hand at teaching before and had grown to dislike teaching young children.

Since coming to Winterfell, Harry had gotten a better idea of the northern nobles, so much so that he soon found himself enjoying their company. They might be a bit primitive compared to what he was used to, but at the same time they had a blunt honesty that he found himself liking, he had never been one for politics or negotiation, often leaving that to Daphne, he could do it if he had to but he would never choose to do it. The northerner he had found had similar regard for politics as Harry, and many of them seemed to despise all the backstabbing and corruption that went on in the south of Westeros.

But as much as Harry's group was enjoying their brief stay in Winterfell, they still found that they had the desire to return to the Iron Islands. After all before they had left Harry had put Blaise in charge, and as loyal and competent as the man was, every member of the group also knew he was crazier than Mad Eye Moody.

 **( - )**

 **(With Blaise, The Iron Islands)**

"Bastards!" Blaise muttered to himself as he limped through the stone hallways of Pyke. People both magical and mundane alike, getting out of his way as they saw the thunderous look on what little of his face they could see behind his mask.

It had been almost a week now since he was put in charge of the Iron Islands by Harry and he was not happy. As soon as they had finished pacifying all the islands he had been called to Pyke and since then he had been run ragged. He had had to deal with the Goblins as they wanted to expand their mines onto the other islands, something he had grudgingly agreed to, though he had made it a condition that they share more of their resources and employ some of the local natives legitimately, in order to improve the current woeful economy of the Iron Islands.

Unfortunately this had lead to the centaurs and newly formed Herbologist's Guild requesting more land for them to cultivate their magical and mundane plants and crops. With the centaurs having taken over the rearing of some of the magical creatures they had brought. This he had agreed to and had ended up giving huge swathes of currently unused land to the centaurs and the Guild so it could be made arable and productive, no doubt thanks to magic being used. Yet again he had tagged on the condition of the resources produced being shared with the other inhabitants, and that local natives are employed, and given their own plots of land to farm, of course under the supervision of the Guild so they don't screw up.

This turned out to be good though as Blacktyde one of the smaller islands in the archipelago had to be swiftly evacuated of people due to Hagrid using it to keep his dragons, acromantula and a number of other more dangerous magical creatures. It had also been decided to move the newly formed Potioneer's Guild top that island to so they would have easy access to some of the rarer potions ingredients available. Though they had to cut a deal with the Herbologist's Guild to supply then with dragon dung in return for cuttings from the magical plants.

It was also whilst he was dealing with the logistics of settling the different magical into the land, without completely displacing the natives, that he had had to deal with the fortifications. Currently new fortifications were being built on time throughout all the islands, large walls being transfigured from the rock by teams of wizards, before they were then inscribed with runes by Goblin cursebreakers and runemasters. It had been one of the first things Harry had ordered to be done, but the work on the fortifications had slowed down slightly as the magical's on the islands found themselves more and more busy as they slowly settled into their new home.

Walking into the main hall of Pyke, Blaise found himself confronted by a small crowd of people apparently waiting for him. The crowd was made up of a mix of Goblins, Magicals, commoners and some of the few remaining nobles. The men who had managed to stay in power by instantly submitting to the Magicals and helping them in their pacification of the Iron Islands, their power was obviously weakened and their actions were closely monitored.

Striding through the hall with a scowl on his face, Blaise quickly braced himself for the onslaught of questions and demands he was about to receive. Some of course were scared off by his angry expression, but a brave few still went ahead and made their demands.

"Blaise." Fleur said as the scarred man approached.

"What do you want Fleur?" Blaise grumbled somewhat more patient when speaking to the Veela than he would be someone else. After all she was a member of the inner circle, and one of those Harry trusted most.

"I am here representing the Healer's Guild!" Fleur said, flicker her silvery hair behind her as she did so. An action that caused more than one of the other petitioners to drool.

"There is now a Healer's Guild..." Blaise asked tiredly.

"Qui." Fleur said a slight smirk on her face. "And why not?"

"What does the 'Healer's Guild want?" He grumbled as he pushed his way through the crowd and sat on the large throne like chair Balon Greyjoy had once used when he had been alive.

"We want access to the magical ingredients of course!" Fleur said as she walked through the crowd as well, the people making way for her as she approached the now seated Blaise. "The Potioneer's Guild is monopolizing them and we need them if we are to continue making healing potions!"

"Can't you just allow the Potioneer's to make the potions for you?" Blaise grumbled as he looked up at her, dearly wishing as he did so that he could be on patrol or fighting the few remaining Iron Born left that hadn't been killed or captured.

"Non, we 'ave asked and zey said zat zey are to busy replenishing our other supplies of potions." Fleur replied huffing as she did so.

"Have you tried approaching the Herbologist's Guild and getting your own source of supplies?" Blaise said as he looked at Fleur with a frown.

"Qui, but they said we didn't ave anything to give them in return!" Fleur growled, her hands beginning to smoke as she did so.

"I will speak to them and get them to give you a supply." Blaise said rubbing his head as he did so. "Now do you want anything else?"

"Non, zough I would like to know when 'Arry will be back." Fleur said with a coy smile.

"I don't know, but when he does get back I am going to kick him in the balls!" Blaise growled in irritations as he looked over Fleur's shoulder, glowering as he saw the petitioners beginning to get impatient. As he did so his fingers fingered the red tinted sword that was currently sheathed at his side.

 **( - )**

 **(King's Landing, Red Keep)**

The air in the Small Council's meeting chamber was thick with tension, just a day ago they had her news from Winterfell about how a the House of Greyjoy had been brought down, as had many other Noble Houses on the Iron Islands and that a new Great House had formed from seemingly nowhere! It was not a good day to be a known spymaster, no matter who you were. Jon Arryn made sure of that.

"Why, in the name of the Old Gods and New, didn't either of you know about this!?" Ordered the Hand of the King.

Varys and Petyr Baelish were the targets of Arryn's ire. And it hadn't been until after the first two letters came that they had finally heard from their own contacts. It was no secret that both of them had extensive spy networks, but these networks had not been good enough to provide information that a rebellion was brewing, nor that the Greyjoy's had been dethroned. And both were rather uncomfortable with the glares the rest of the room leveled on them.

"I have no excuses, Lord Hand. It does seem however, that they have completely shut down all communication between the islands and the mainland, or at least temporarily," admitted Varys with a slight frown, the man was a bald, pale skinned eunuch and also the Master of Whispers in the King's Small Council.

"Lord Stark seems to have met the man, and he has vouched for him and his new House, House Albion." Jon said as he turned his glare away from Varys and Baelish. For Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, the fact that Ned was vouching for this man was enough, but he still found himself concerned by the complete lack of communication from the Iron Islands.

For Stannis Baratheon though, the King;s brother and the Master of Ships, Ned Stark's word was not enough, he didn't trust the Iron Born, and although he didn't care if they all killed each other, he also didn't like this sudden activity after all these years of silence. "I don't like this, we should send a force to the Island's and put them under martial law until this issue can be properly solved. This House Albion could be dangerous." Stannis said a fierce scow on his face, as he already contemplated the logistics of bringing the Royal Fleet to the Iron Islands and capturing them.

His younger brother Renly the Master of Laws though, the situation was not as serious as Stannis seemed to believe, in fact if anything for Renly this was the most exciting thing that had happened in years. "While this 'Harry' admits to taking the islands by force, they are subject to their own laws when it comes down to it. The rebellion by Iron Born laws is perfectly legitimate."

If there was one thing Jon Arryn could count on, it was the two younger brothers of Robert refusing to agree on something.

"What does the King say?" asked Maester Pycelle, the Grand Maester of the Citadel and an adviser to the King and a member of the Small Council.

Jon Arryn groaned as he heard that, sighing slightly as he thought back on his disappointment over the King's decision, "The King has decided to leave it to the Small Council. Lord Stannis, the letter we received from Lord Stark was enough for the King. But he told the Small Council to look into it more and to make a decision. _"_

Not everyone looked happy at that, though if one was to look closely they would see a slight smirk on the face of Petyr Baelish, the King's Master of Coin.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry, Winterfell)**

Striding through the halls of Winterfell, Harry walked out of the castle, a large, grey haired man wearing ragged clothes opening the door for him as he approached.

"Hodor Hodor!" The large man mumbled, nodding his head to Harry as he shuffled away, heading in the direction of the kitchens.

"Thanks for holding the door Hodor." Harry said patting the large man on the shoulder as he passed. In the week and a half he had spent at Winterfell he had found the large man somewhat friendly and amiable, and had gone out of his way to show a bit of kindness to the man.

Making his way to where Ned was currently standing, on a wooden balcony looking over fighting yard his grey eyes narrowed as he watched his son Robb and his ward Theon sparring with swords. Moving to stand beside the cloaked Stark, Harry also looked down on the ongoing spar, Theon had been avoiding Harry at nearly every turn since he was beaten, refusing to interact with him. Harry wasn't surprised why, after all he had taken his home, executed his father, held his sister captive and beat him down in a spar.

Now standing beside Ned, Harry stopped to watch the match play out. Ned acknowledged his presence with a slight nod, not taking his eyes off the boys. Harry knew that both of them were capable swordsmen, but he could also see that Theon's style was off. The younger Greyjoy's attacks were wild and barely controlled, far more so than when he had previously fought Harry, and it seemed he once again completely disregarded defense. Robb though, was parrying or simply dodging the well telegraphed strikes, waiting for his chance. Which came rather soon when Robb hooked Theon's sword in his cross guard, and disarmed Theon, who threw up his hands, partially to yield and partially in anger. Theon then stormed off after catching sight of the audience.

Lord Stark shook his head slightly in disappointment as he looked down at Theon. "I believe you know why he's like that."

"He'll get over it." Harry grunted out before turning to look away from the courtyard. "I was told you had received a message?"

"Yes there has been a response from King's Landing." Was Ned's grim reply as he handed the rolled up message over to Harry.

"I see." Harry said as he took the message.

 **AN: So yeah that is it, I hope you all enjoyed it, this chapter was mainly about setting the scene and developing the characters a bit more. Next chapter should see Harry leaving Winterfell, and some more responsibility for an angry Blaise on the Iron Islands.**

 **Also I am not going to lie, I love Hodor's character so I included a slight tribute to him. I mean how can you not love Hodor!**

 **So as always please review and leave a comment, I do like to hear from you.**

 **The next chapter should hopefully be out sooner than this one.**

 **Seagate.**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: So here is the next chapter, now I know some people may not like some of the focus on this chapter, but it is very important to the story. But to compensate to the potential whingers I will be posting another chapter tomorrow. Why because it was originally part of this chapter but I split the chapter due to reasons. Well yeah anyway I hope it goes down well, if not we'll meh.**

 **So yeah anyway I hope you give the chapter a chance and stick with it as it is important to the plot. So yeah I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter, Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire.**

 _ **( - )**_

 _ **(Last Time)**_

 _Making his way to where Ned was currently standing, on a wooden balcony looking over fighting yard his grey eyes narrowed as he watched his son Robb and his ward Theon sparring with swords. Moving to stand beside the cloaked Stark, Harry also looked down on the ongoing spar, Theon had been avoiding Harry at nearly every turn since he was beaten, refusing to interact with him. Harry wasn't surprised why, after all he had taken his home, executed his father, held his sister captive_ _and beat him down in a spar._

 _Now standing beside Ned, Harry stopped to watch the match play out. Ned acknowledged his presence with a slight nod, not taking his eyes off the boys. Harry knew that both of them were capable swordsmen, but he could also see that Theon's style was off. The younger Greyjoy's attacks were wild and barely controlled, far more so than when he had previously fought Harry and it seemed he once again completely disregarded defense. Robb though, was parrying or simply dodging the well telegraphed strikes, waiting for his chance. This came rather soon when Robb hooked Theon's sword in his cross guard, and disarmed Theon, who threw up his hands, partially to yield and partially in anger. Theon then stormed off after catching sight of the audience._

 _Lord Stark shook his head slightly in disappointment as he looked down at Theon. "I believe you know why he's like that."_

" _He'll get over it." Harry grunted out before turning to look away from the courtyard. "I was told you had received a message?"_

" _Yes there has been a response from King's Landing." Was Ned's grim reply as he handed the rolled up message over to Harry._

" _I see." Harry said as he took the message._

 _ **( - )**_

 **Chapter 8**

 **( - )**

 **(In the City of Pentos)**

With a smirk of satisfaction, a pale-skinned woman strode through the dirty bustling streets of Pentos. She had chin-length golden-colored hair and wore a red and orange dress with a red shawl wrapped around her head and shoulders, protecting her pale skin from the sun. The people in the streets backed away as this woman approached and with good reason. The woman was easily recognized as a priestess of the Red God, R'hllor. She and her followers had appeared one day in Pentos, declaring to all that they had been guided here by the Lord of Light. She had then gone onto to reveal her powers, wielding fire like a soldier would a weapon, quickly catching the attention of the poor and disenfranchised members of the city.

Striding through the city, the Red Woman continued to smirk as she saw the awe and the fear on the faces of the people they passed. Using her magic and her dedication to the Lord of Light, they had managed to gain entry into the city and also gain a reputation. In fact, all over Essos, their religion had been gaining momentum. Two months ago, something in the world had changed and it had been like magic had been reborn anew. No longer did they have to rely on the life force of sacrificed humans to power their spells and for those without magic to use parlor tricks to keep the faith burning. Instead, they could give powerful and impressive examples of their patron's power. They, of course, still sacrificed those who opposed them to R'hllor, just not as much as they no longer had a reliance on the power gained from sacrifice.

She had been in the city for barely two weeks before she had received an invitation to visit the home of one of the wealthiest merchants in the city, a man named Illyrio Mopatis. It was to his house that she and her followers were currently traveling. The Red Woman and her acolytes strode through the hot and crowded alleys, heading in the direction of a large opulent palace overlooking the Narrow Sea.

"Lady Clementine," she heard as one of her companions called out to her, gaining the attention of the Red Woman, causing her to turn to the speaker, her pinkish eyes narrowing at the interruption to her thoughts.

"What is it, Melisandre?" Clementine cooed as she turned to look at the red-haired woman who had spoken, her eyes trailing over the woman's pale porcelain skin before moving up to look at the gaudy jewelry she wore around her neck. Her delicate features curving up into a wicked smile as she sensed the magic coming from the jewel that was set into the necklace. The vanity the woman possessed always amused Clementine. Melisandre had been her companion with the order for decades and was a dedicated follower, fanatical almost, not that that was a problem for most of the Lord of Light's followers were, after all. But recently her fellow priestess had been pushing Clementine, unhappy with the decisions she had been making.

"I have looked into the flames, Clementine, and have seen what may come to pass. The decision to come here was an incorrect one," Melisandre said her eyes locked onto Clementine's as she tried to convey to her fellow priestess what she saw. "Our future lies in the western continent of Westeros, where the Azor Ahai has been reborn, he who is the chosen of the Lord of Light. We must go to him and support him. Otherwise, the darkness will take the lands of men, and the Great Other will win the war that is to come."

"The future is random and ever-changing, shaped by our actions and choices. Do not dwell on what could be, rather make it happen you," Clementine said as she once again faced forward, sidestepping a pile of stinking human feces that had begun to build up at the side of the hot streets. "I believe that the future lies with the last of the Targaryens, those who are said to have the blood of the dragons. It is through them that I think the Light will be brought forth onto the world. This is why we are going to see this, Illyrio Mopatis, who shelters the last of the Targaryens: this Beggar King and his sister."

"But Westeros-" Melisandre began as she followed Clementine, her tone turning quite cold at Clementine's easy dismissal of her vision.

"-Is the ancestral home of the Targaryens and with our help the true heirs to the Iron Throne will return and the power of the Lord of Light will be felt throughout Westeros," Clementine interrupted as she continued to lead her party through the narrow alleys, the large ornate double doors that led to Illyrio's estate now in view. "Which is why we are meeting with this merchant and through him, we will meet Viserys Targaryen and his sister. Through our guidance, they will return home to reclaim their throne."

"A naive hope to retake the Iron Throne. They will need an army and the support of the numerous nobles of the land," Melisandre said. "Our best chance relies on finding the Azor Ahai in Westeros and showing him the way."

"Which is where we disagree. If you truly believe this is the way forward, then you can go to Westeros and find your prophet. I will not stop you," Clementine said, her voice still calm, not showing her rising irritation to her disciples or Melisandre. "Who knows if you lay a foundation in Westeros, it would make the Targaryens ascension that much easier."

"Then I will travel to Westeros and join the Azor Ahai and guide him into prominence," Melisandre said her eyes narrowing slightly at the arrogance Clementine showed.

"If that is your wish, then I will not stop you," Clementine replied, turning to Melisandre her eyes glittering dangerously. "But I will warn you now, do not get in my way."

"The feeling is mutual," Melisandre said coldly, the two women now facing off against one another. But despite the tension, neither of them moved to harm the other. After all, both only did what they thought was right, both were still devoted priestesses to the Red God, R'hllor.

"Then I will see you in Westeros. Do try not to make too bigger a mess of it than it already is," Clementine spoke up again, a sly smile crossing her face as she saw Melisandre tense.

"You will see that my way was right and when that happens I will accept your apology and subservience with open arms," Melisandre replied, her eyes narrowing once again as she saw their other companions, their disciples take the side of the older and more powerful priestess.

"As will I," Clementine responded with forced calm. "For the night is dark and full of terrors."

"Yes, it is. And the Light of the Lord will drive the terrors away," Melisandre replied before she turned away, her red cloak sweeping behind her as she left, already planning how to get across the Narrow Sea to Westeros. The beggars and citizens in the cramped streets of Pentos quickly scrambling out of her way. After all, it was never wise to anger a priestess of the Red Temple.

"I hope you find luck in your venture for it is not just our power that has been strengthened. Already the Long Night draws near and things that are best forgotten are awakening," Clementine muttered to herself as she looked at the retreating back of Melisandre. Things were moving fast, and with the resurgence of magic, they were only moving quicker. It would be better if they kept a unified front but the servants of the Lord of Light were many and each different sect interpreted things differently.

Turning back around, Clementine led her remaining followers the rest of the way to Illyrio's palace with her thoughts still in the future to come.

 **( - )**

"Welcome! Welcome!" a corpulent man greeted them as he walked down his stone steps to his guest. The man in question was wearing expensive clothing that seemed to float along behind him as he approached the group at the bottom of the steps. A welcoming smile fixed on his fleshy face, a smile that did not quite reach his calculating eyes. "The day is at its hottest. Not a time for civilized people to be outside in."

As he finally met his visitors, his pig-like eyes began to dart back and forth taking in their appearances with a subtly hidden grimace. The leader of the group was a lithe woman, who had shoulder length golden blonde hair and delicate, beautiful features. Her skin was still a pale white color despite the strength of the sun in this part of the world. She was wearing a flowing red and orange dress, which looked like it was made of fire as she moved. Behind her and dressed in a similar if slightly more simple manner were a group of five men and another two women, all of whom were standing calmly in the midday sun, unbothered by the heat of the day.

"Illyrio Mopatis, I presume," the woman who led them said smoothly as she made eye contact with him. Her gaze holding the look of someone used to giving commands and having them followed without question no matter who it was she commanded. It was a look she shared with another of his guests. "It is an honor to be here in your beautiful home."

Her tone rang with insincerity but Illyrio easily ignored it as he was used to dealing with people like her. "And welcome you are indeed. Now, come. I have some refreshing drinks prepared in the solar."

Waving them on, he led them up the stone steps and into his opulent palace. The entire building was light and airy as numerous large windows lined the walls, letting in the cool breeze from the sea. Normally, he would send his servants to meet his guests before directing them to him but sometimes when he had to, he did it himself. It was not something he enjoyed but for certain kinds of people, it helped.

 **( - )**

Entering the solar, a large open room that had a number of comfortable and ornately crafted lounging seats for relaxing on and a large round table that was quite low to the floor, Clementine looked around. Her eyes taking into account the other occupants of the room. Around the side of the room, there were half a dozen servants, all of whom were carrying golden trays laden with food and jugs of drinks. The two other occupants of the room were a boy and a girl who looked to be in their mid to late teens, both of whom were comfortably relaxing on the furniture in the room as the servants served them. They had long whitish blonde hair and clear pale skin, and as Clementine and her companions followed Illyrio into the room, the two teens' violet eyes fixed on them.

Casting her gaze over the two teens, Clementine noticed the arrogance and confidence in the boy's face as he looked at them and the slight nervousness in the young girl's face as she looked over at them. Smirking to herself as she recognized the two of them of as the last Targaryens, Clementine opened her mouth to introduce herself and give the boy false praise when she was interrupted however by the obnoxious sound of the boy's arrogant voice.

"Tell me, peasant, are you so ill-educated as to not know that you should bow when in the presence of a king?" the boy sneered as he looked at the newcomers with disdain.

"Forgive them, your grace, for they do not know to whom they speak," Illyrio said in an oily voice as he bowed to the pale boy. "Lady Clementine, allow me to introduce to you Viserys of House Targaryen, Third of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Clementine mentally rolled her eyes at the presumptuous title as from where she was standing, the boy was currently king of nothing. Instead of commenting on this though, she gave him a coy smile, her mind already racing as she thought of ways she could take advantage of the boy's arrogance as they were always the easiest to control. "Why, your grace, I did not know I was in the presence of one so esteemed as you," she said as she bowed low, the others in her group copying her immediately.

Gesturing for her to rise, Viserys gave the group a scrutinizing look. "You're forgiven, I suppose. So tell me why have you brought these . . . people to me, Illyrio?"

"Why, your grace, it is because I believe they will be able to help you defeat the usurper, Robert Baratheon, and reclaim your throne," Illyrio said bowing again before he turned to Clementine. "His grace is currently in exile, having been driven from his home by a barbarian named, Robert Baratheon but his grace has not been idle. Currently, he is preparing to retake the Iron Throne and bring peace and prosperity to the continent of Westeros."

"Yes, so I have heard the strength and wisdom of his grace is the talk of the city," Clementine replied, once again mentally rolling her eyes. We would be more than happy to lend our aid to him and his rightful reclamation of the Iron Throne."

"Your aid would be most happily accepted. Rumors of the power your group possesses have reached my ears," Illyrio said giving a slight bow to the woman, hiding the surprise on his face as he did so. He had assumed that acquiring the aid of the servants of the Red God would be difficult as he had heard they were a thorny and arrogant bunch. But this immediate offer of assistance knocked him off his guard. He knew his comrade, Varys, would not like what he was doing but he had heard of their power and knew that it would be useful to draw in fanatics for an army. Not only that, with the sudden rise in the Red Temple's prominence in Pentos and the other Free Cities, such an alliance could be the spark of a potential crusade. "Already, the people of Pentos are in wonder of your abilities and many are now beginning to worship the Lord of Light."

"Yes, the worship of the One True God is spreading as the people of Pentos become more enlightened. Soon enough, the false idols will be purged from the city," Clementine said with a slight smile. "As for the abilities, of which you speak, they are merely blessings bestowed upon those who show faith in R'hllor."

"Why, of course," Illyrio replied with a forced smile, hiding a grimace as he did so. He had heard how they had purged those false idols as a number of "accidental" fires had popped up around the city and a number of important religious figures had suddenly gone missing. Everyone in the social elite of Pentos knew who was responsible but there was no evidence. Even if there was, with the support they were gaining in the city they wouldn't try and confront them. "That's is, after all, why you accepted my invitation, is it not? You wish to gain access to my wealth and power in order for you to spread the power of your religion even further and, in return, you assist us."

"Power of the Light," Viserys suddenly interrupted with a sneer once again on his face as he looked at the group. "You brought me a Red Priest, a cheap conjurer, and a fraud."

That caused a number of the disciples to let out affronted noises, many of them now glaring at the Beggar King from beneath their hoods.

"Calm yourselves," Clementine snapped at her followers, quieting them all with a single look before she looked over at the young king and his sister, Daenerys. "Fraud and conjurer? Why not at all, your grace? Illyrio speaks truly when he talks about our abilities as we who follow the god R'hllor have been blessed. We are capable of using magic in His name."

Clementine then raised her hands in the air, summoning forth fire as she did so. The red and orange flame swirling around her, bathing the entire room in the heat of its flame. As she did this, Clementine's lips curved upwards into a smirk as a few months ago, a display like this would have been almost impossible, at least not without several hours of preparation and a few sacrifices. Now though she could perform such deeds at will. Magic had returned to the land and it wasn't just the followers of R'hllor who had benefitted or at least that's what she had heard. It was a sign, one that all Red Priests had taken note of. The world had changed and something was coming.

Viserys looked on transfixed as he saw the woman conjure powerful flames out of nowhere. His violet eyes gleaming hungrily as he looked at the fire, his Targaryen blood burning just being in the presence of it. His sister, likewise, was transfixed by what she saw. Although, unlike her brother, who was staring at the fire, she was staring at the source. This woman who, not only stood her ground against her brother but showed herself capable of wielding magic.

Seeing their looks of awe, Clementine enforced her will on the fire, shaping it into a three-headed dragon, which seemed to roar its approval.

Illyrio also looked on at the display with surprise, though a hungry look soon crossed his face. He had heard of their abilities as he had a number of sources in the city: beggars and other undesirables who most of society went out of their way to ignore. Those kinds of people reported what they saw to him. What they saw was this woman and the other followers of the Lord of Light using their magic to enrapture the watching people, enticing them into following their religion with promises of power and ascension from the hell they are living in. Something like this was not what he expected. Not that that bothered him. The fact that she was capable of something like this and still willing to ally with them was enough for Illyrio. Varys though may be a bit harder to convince but he knew his old friend would come around. The eunuch may hate magic but his dedication to Westeros would overcome his suspicion and hatred as Illyrio was sure of that.

"Marvelous!" Illyrio crowed as he clapped his hands together. "Simply marvelous."

"Indeed, and just how did you do that, witch?" Viserys said as he got to his feet and prowled forward, his gaze fixed hungrily on Clementine and the fiery three-headed dragon even as it slowly dispersed into the air.

"It is an ability granted to me for following the One True God, the Lord of Light," Clementine said calmly, hiding her smile as she saw the awe in their eyes. "Something you as a Targaryen should understand. After all, your family is of Old Valyria. The blood of the dragon flows through your veins."

"Yes, you're right, of course," Viserys muttered with a satisfied look on his face as he heard the Red Priestess' comments about him.

"So, if a person dedicates themselves to the Light, they can wield the strength you possess," Daenerys said as she too got to her feet and approached Clementine, looking in reverence at the strength she possessed.

"Why, of course," Clementine said a smile on her face as she saw the longing in the younger girl's eyes. It was a longing that Clementine remembered well from her own childhood. It was the look of someone powerless, someone who had been bullied, controlled all their lives, and longed for freedom. But more importantly, it was something she could work with.

Daenerys' eyes shone with interest as she heard that, her violet eyes fixed on Clementine's. "Would you teach me then?"

"Well, of course," Clementine said with a smirk, already seeing a potential Red Priestess in the girl. If she were to become one, she would have to shed her innocence and naivety.

"But you will teach me your craft first as the King of Westeros I deserve no less," Viserys interjected, glaring at his sister and making her back down as he did. "I am a Dragon and as such the power over fire is my birthright."

"Of course, your grace. I will show you the ways of R'hllor and through His Grace, you will gain both power and the throne," Clementine promised as she got in between the two.

"Of course, you will," Viserys said smugly as he looked away, his eyes already gleaming with delight as he imagined burning his enemies alive, their imagined pained screams echoing in his head even now.

Clementine smirked again as she saw Viserys' face, pleased that the two Targaryens were so receptive to the Lord of Light and the power she offered.

Before anyone else could ask another question though, she decided to ask one of her own with a slight smile on her face as she thought about the days to come. "So, you wish for an alliance with us and offer your support to us in return. My only question now is what is your plan for reclaiming this Iron Throne?

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry in Winterfell)**

Harry currently stood on the wall of Winterfell, his eyes staring out at the cold landscape as he did so. In his hands was the rolled up message Lord Stark had given him and had not read yet. At his side stood Daphne, his lover and right hand when it came to dealing with the intricacies of politics. The blonde woman was also looking out at the barren landscape of the North, her cold blue eyes narrowed against the cold biting wind. Despite the chill the wind brought, neither of the two shivered, protected as they were from the cold weather by simple warming charms.

"Well, I'm here now. Are you going to open it and see what this King Robert says?" Daphne asked impatiently as she looked at the message in Harry's hands. She had received a message from one of Winterfell's servants that Harry was waiting for her up here. It had not taken her long to figure out why. Harry was a very confident and decisive person. He feared nothing and rightly so for he was a deadly warrior and a genius leader. But the subtlety of politics wasn't something he had mastered. He was skilled enough in debate and half-truths to easily defeat a blunt Northerner like Eddard Stark. But from what she had heard, he might be on the defensive in King's Landing. This is part of the reason he asked for her as she, while a skilled and deadly fighter in her own right, had also mastered politics and manipulation in a way only a true-bred Slytherin could.

"Yeah, I know. No need to be a pain," Harry muttered with a slight smile as he saw Daphne roll her eyes at him in exasperation. Lifting the letter up, he broke the seal and unrolled it, holding it in a way so that both of them could see.

Lord Harold Albion of the newly formed House of Albion,

Word has reached the king of the fall of House Greyjoy and the establishment of the House of Albion. In accordance with the ancient charter that holds the Seven Kingdoms together, the king recognizes House Albion. Concern has been raised, however, over your House's stewardship of the Iron Islands.

The king has, therefore, decided that you are to come to King's Landing, where you will swear your oath of fealty to the king as the law demands. Whilst here, a decision will also be made on the suitability of your newly formed House in regards to ruling over the Iron Islands. The decision of which has been placed in the hands of myself, Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, and the king's Small Council.

You will be expected to present yourself within a month's time and are expected to attend the tournament held in honor of Crown Prince Joffrey's nameday, where you will swear your fealty to the king in front of the court and will also be granted stewardship over the Iron Islands if I deem you fit.

 _Lord Jon Arryn of House Arryn,_

 _Warden of the East_

 _Hand of the King_

"Well, what do you think, Daph. Should I present myself at court and swear fealty?" Harry asked in amusement as he looked over at Daphne. His amusement coming from this world's obsession with oaths as long as it wasn't magical, Harry would swear an oath to the king. Not that he would hesitate to break it if it benefited his people. He was practically being forced into it. He would have no qualms about breaking it. It would, of course, be different if it was something he gave freely. Harry was, for the most part, a man of his word but this wasn't an oath he would give freely and not an oath he would allow to bind him.

"Hmm, I don't think we really have a choice in the matter," Daphne said blandly before her eyes narrowed slightly. "The oath is inconsequential we both know that. We will abide by it for as long as it benefits us. What is of more concern is how this Jon Arryn will judge whether or not we will be allowed stewardship of the Iron Islands. The man is a close friend of Lord Stark and he trusts and supports us for the most part. It is the rest of this Small Council that I'm not sure of."

"Well, you can be very persuasive, Daph," Harry said suggestively, sending her a flirty wink as he did so.

To which Daphne promptly ignored with practiced ease. "The people of this land are not a susceptible to mind magic as muggles, Harry. The innate magic they possess gives them some resistance against certain wards and mind magic. Some more than others."

"You worry too much. I was able to work my magic on Lord Stark and his will was incredibly strong," Harry said with a smile as he waved off Daphne's concern.

"And you don't worry enough. We don't know enough about the natives of this land at the moment. All we know is that with sufficient will, a person can throw off even your influence. We also know that everyone here would be classified as a squib and although we haven't seen any real evidence, it isn't beyond belief that there are actual magic users in this land. I mean, we've heard of the wargs north of the Wall and of the Red Priests in Essos. How many others could there be?" Daphne said as she frowned at Harry's blasé attitude. "Our focus at the moment should be on fortifying our position on the Iron Islands, not making enemies in the kingdom's capital."

"I know," Harry said with a groan. "And my focus is on that, which is why I'm here in Winterfell making sure we are secure. As for dealing with the Small Council in King's Landing, I'll leave that up to you. You were always better at this political crap than me anyway."

Daphne nodded in agreement at that. One of the things she loved about Harry was that he was his intelligence and he knew his limitations and was more than happy to delegate responsibility to other people if he thought they could do a better job of it. It was the sign of a good leader.

"But also know that my first priority will always be the survival of our people. If it comes down to it, I will mind fuck everyone in King's Landing if I have to. We will keep our new home and we will survive."

That was the other thing she loved about the man. His dedications to protect that which was precious to him and it made her hot just thinking about it.

"Well, hopefully, it won't come to that," she replied coolly, not revealing her actual thoughts to Harry, knowing she would be mortified if he heard it. They might love each other and be partners in every sense of the word but that didn't mean she was about to admit something so embarrassing to him.

"What of this tournament? Do you think it's a hidden challenge?" Harry asked, before expanding on his question at her raised eyebrow. "Could they be saying, 'Hey, we're having this big competition. Come and have a go if you think you are hard enough'?"

Her lip quirked at his oversimplification of what the message said. "From what I have heard of Lord Arryn from Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark, I very much doubt he meant it in that way. More likely it's because the event is a convenient way to gather the powerful lords of the land so they can witness your oath of fealty."

"Bastards," Harry said good-naturedly. "But I am still going to take it as a challenge. Let's see how smug those southerners are looking up at me from their backs. Gathering to witness my oath of fealty indeed," he finished with a mutter.

"That might not actually be a bad idea. The king is a fighter, first and foremost. He loves tournaments and battle. The man would be more likely to favor us if he thinks we are fighters," Daphne mused with a slight smirk at Harry's comments.

"Well, we have to first get rid of the taint the Greyjoys have put on the Iron Islands," Harry muttered becoming a bit more serious.

"That will only come with time. Though it will be quicker and easier if we publicly renounce the Ironborn's raiding ways. We can then focus on trade and other things, which will allow us to gain wealth and prosperity for our people. Therefore, strengthening our position somewhat," Daphne replied as she brought her hand up and cupped Harry's cheek. "After all, Albion will rise."

"Yes, we will," Harry muttered as he brought his arms around Daphne and pulled her close against him.

Their lips soon met. At first softly before becoming fiercer as their tongues began to duel. Slowly guiding his hands down her lithe body, Harry's hand cupped Daphne's firm ass, pulling her tighter against him even as her own hands moved up and gripped his hair, pulling him in tighter.

"Goddammit, you're good," Harry muttered as they broke apart briefly.

"I know," Daphne said with a slight smirk. "Now why don't you show me how good you are . . . ?" she trailed off, her smirk becoming sensual and somewhat expectant.

Harry merely grinned. His magic pulsing slightly as he sent out a pulse of power looking to see if anyone was nearby. When he discovered there were not, he just grinned as he kissed Daphne fiercely again before muttering with a slight chuckle, "Why don't you tell me in the morning?"

Then with a very faint pop, Harry apparated the two of them to their chambers, leaving behind only silence as the cold wind continued to blow against the now empty walls of Winterfell.

 **( - )**

 **AN: So yeah I hope you stuck with it and enjoyed it. As I quite liked this chapter. There is going to be another chapter out tomorrow that is entirely based on Harry and his lot.**

 **Anyone got any question or comments please ask away, so you know review, review, review. As I said before next chapter will be hopefully out tomorrow depending on how well this chapter is received as I don't want to waste my limited time when I could be focused on other stories and life etc. At the moment I am bit on the fence about whether to continue.**

 ** **So as I said I hoped you guys liked it. This will be primarily based off the TV show but there will be several things from the books which I think were really interesting included within this story if it continues.****

 ** **For fans of Daenerys don't worry I have a plan for her. In terms of Romance, Daphne and Harry are together but there will be more romance, which will be done in a tactful and well reason / well explained way.****

 ** **So yeah the next chapter completely based on Harry and his lot will be out tomorrow. I have some really cool ideas to do in Esso and in Westeros. Also Hermione and her lot will not have a major role until later, for reasons.****

 ** **Update 24/02/17 After seeing how much people dislike having a second group of magicals in the GoT verse with Harry and his group, I have decided to put a poll up to see whether or not people want me to remove them from the story. Doing so will cause a slight delay to my updating, but if so many people really don't like it I will but a poll up to see what to do next. There inclusion was never supposed to be a big thing in the plan so it would not be to difficult to get rid of them.****

 ** **Update 28/02/2017 So after seeing the results of the poll I have removed the Order of the Phoenix from the story. But replaced them with another Westeros group so I don't have to massively change the story plan. Aha! No complaining about this either! As I saw a number of well written and persuasive comments that mentioned how the arrival of Harry and the rest of the magicals could strengthen the magic of Westeros and Essos, so I have decided to use that. I also saw a few good suggestions advising that I include some of the different groups in Essos that were not developed in the series. For those complaining about why the red priestess would approach the last Targaryens, my reasoning is that with their increase in power, it is likely they would act sooner, so in the series they ally with Dany later, but here they are more powerful and are acting bolder.****

 ** **Update 2018, thanks to my beta writer Foxmac this chapter has now been betaed.****

 ** **So yeah see you all later.****

 ** **Seagate.****


	9. Chapter 9

**AN : So the last chapter was not well received by some, I think I lost more followers and favourites than I received hahaha, but that is how it is sometimes. I did take note of the reviews I received and have written something important that I want people to read, as it involves a poll.**

 **But yeah anyway thanks for those who reviewed I really appreciated you taking the time to do so, whether they be positive or critical they were useful.**

 **Anyway here is the next chapter of the story, all with Harry and his group so don't worry ha ha.**

 **Also again look at the short AN at the bottom of the story if you have the time.**

 **Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, or a Song of Ice and Fire.**

 _ **( - )**_

 _ **(Last Time)**_

 _ **( - )**_

" _Well we have to first get rid of the taint the Greyjoy's have put on the Iron Islands." Harry muttered becoming a bit more serious._

" _That will only come with time, though it will be quicker and easier if we public renounce the Iron Born's raiding ways. We can then instead focus on trade and other things, which will allow us to gain wealth and prosperity for our people, and strengthen our position" Daphne replied as she brought her hand up and cupped Harry's cheek. "After all Albion will rise."_

" _Yes we will" Harry muttered as he brought his arms around Daphne and pulled her close against him._

 _Their lips soon met, at first softly before becoming fiercer as their tongues began to duel. Slowly guiding his hands down her lithe body Harry's hand cupped Daphne's firm arse, pulling her tighter against him, even as her own hands moved up and gripped his hair, pulling him in tighter._

" _Gods dammit you are good." Harry muttered as they broke apart briefly._

" _I know" Daphne said with a slight smirk. "Now why don't you show me how good you are…?" She trailed off her smirk becoming sensual and somewhat expectant._

 _Harry merely grinned, his magic pulsing slightly as he sent out a pulse of power looking to see if anyone was nearby. When he discovered there were not, he just grinned as he kissed Daphne fiercely again before muttering with a slight chuckle. "Why don't you tell me in the morning?!"_

 _Then with a very faint pop, Harry apparated the two of them to their chambers, leaving behind only silence as the cold wind continued to blow against the now empty walls of Winterfell._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 9**

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry, the next morning)**

In the early morning the next day, the courtyard of Winterfell was filled with shouts and the clattering of hooves, chaos seemed to reign as dozens of people ran back and forth, some of them pulling behind them horses as they brought them out of the stables.

Now normally in the morning Winterfell's keep would be busy as servants ran back and forth building and lighting the fires that would keep the stone chambers warm, and cooks would fire up the ovens and beginning preparing the breakfasts. A good and fine quality spread for the Starks and their guests, and a cheaper spread for the guardsmen and servants. The Stark guardsmen by this hour in the morning would be up and about, with patrols having already stared. This meant that the keep would usually be a hive of activity, but even so this morning was busy than normal

The reason for this was due to the imminent departure of Harry and the rest of the House of Albion representatives. Currently in the great hall of Winterfell the visitors from the Iron Islands were sat at a large wooden table with Ned Stark and his family.

"So where will you go now?" Ned Stark asked gruffly as he looked up from his food and locked eyes with Harry.

"To King's Landing, of course, we will probably travel along the King's Road straight there." Harry replied with a shrug, as he brought a wooden tankard of ale to his lips and had a sip. He would have much preferred a cup of hot tea to start his day, but the northerner drank ale, no doubt to help warm them up in the morning. Looking up he continued to speak, even as he gingerly put his tankard down, it was far too early in the morning to be drinking. "I don't see the point in heading back to the Iron Islands, we have a month to get down to King's Landing and if we travel lightly and set off now we can get there with time to spare. None of us have been to the capital before, and looking around it will be quite the experience."

"Aye King's Landing is nice enough to look at, but it is rotten on the inside. I tell you this now to help, the men of the south are not like us northerners, and they like to say one thing then do another." Ned grunted in reply, his face darkening as he remembered the last time he was in King's Landing, it had not been a pleasant experience, and from what he had heard from some of the other northern Lords who had visited things hadn't gotten better, if anything they had gotten worse. "A den of snakes!"

"Oh well that does not sound pleasant at all." Harry said a slight smirk on his face as his eyes flickered over to Daphne, who looked somewhat affronted, which wasn't surprising considering Slytherin House was often referred to as a den of snakes.

"It is not all bad though; there are some people there that you can trust." Catelyn spoke up as she saw the frown on Daphne's face, mistaking it as her being worried about going to the capital. "My old friend Petyr, Petyr Baelish is the Master of Coin and a member of the King's Small Council. He is someone you can trust, I have known him since I was a child, if I send him a missive he will help."

"That would be very generous of you Catelyn." Daphne said with a smile to Lady Stark, while internally frowning. She liked Catelyn Stark as a person, but she didn't much trust her judgment, the woman thought with her heart and not with her head. Which although an admirable quality in a person did not always mean they made the right decision or trust the right people.

"Jon Arryn is another you can trust." Ned Stark spoke up again, a very faint smile on his face as he did so. "Robert and I fostered with him when we were boys, he is an honest and honourable man, and one you can trust to help you."

"The Hand of the King?" Harry asked slightly surprised, he had been under the impression that if King's Landing was corrupt, than the King's Hand would be the worst of the lot.

"Yes, he is not like the others in the capital, he is a man of integrity." Ned replied resolutely, seeming to guess what Harry was surprised about.

Harry nodded his acknowledgment, before he could respond though he was interrupted by an excited voice from the other end of the table.

"So will you be coming back to Winterfell after you have gone to King's Landing?" Ayra, Ned's youngest daughter asked, a large smile on the girl's face at the thought of Daphne, Tracey and Hannah coming back to Winterfell. All three of them were strong and beautiful women, but also trained fighters. They were everything the girl wanted to be, and deep down Arya wished that if they came back they would have time to train her or take her under their wing.

"Ayra don't interrupt Lord Albion or your father when they are speaking, such behavior is unbecoming of a lady." Catelyn scolded a frown on her face as she reprimanded her offspring.

Sansa, Ned's eldest daughter nodded her head at that, her long reddish hair fluttering about her as she did so. "A true Lady should be seen and not heard, not unless her opinion was asked for."

A loud snort was heard when Sansa said that. Looking down the table they could see Tracey Davis, covered in ale from where she had snort in laughter while drinking. "A Lady should be seen and not heard! That's a riot, a woman is every bit as good as a man, and if you ask me their better!"

Catelyn and Sansa looked absolutely scandalized at that outburst, whilst Arya looked like she had just found her new hero as her eyes seemed to gleam with happiness as she looked over at Tracey. Ned, Robb, Bran and Rickon the other Starks just looked surprised as they looked over at Tracey, she wasn't someone they had spoken to properly, but they had all seen her in the training yard beating down her fair share of Stark guardsmen. Harry and most of his group though just looked resigned as they heard the outspoken Tracey, once more speak her mind.

Daphne however just let out a slight sigh. "Tracey, do try and remember we are in polite company."

"But Daph!" Tracey said as she turned to her friend, only to see that the blonde was now ignoring her and had instead turned to Lord and Lady Stark.

"Please do forgive my companion; things on the Iron Islands are somewhat different than in other places in Westeros. The land is harsh and more often than not both men and women need to pull their weight." Daphne said as she began to explain away Tracey's outburst. "I mean just look at Yara, she was the captain of a fleet of ships, which is something you wouldn't see a normal woman doing in Westeros."

That comment brought the attention onto the Greyjoy, who looked to be in the middle of a discussion with Neville, a smirk on her face as she whispered something into the red faced man's ear.

"What was that?"Yara asked as she saw the attention on her.

"Nothing important…" Harry said as he decided to take control of the conversation again, looking at the table as he did so, so he was now speaking to Arya. "As for us returning to Winterfell after King's Landing, it is doubtful, there is much that will need our attention on the Iron Islands."

Arya nodded disappointedly at that, before muttering "I understand milord."

"Don't be so down little one, I am sure this won't be the last you see of us." Hannah spoke up as she sent a slight smile to the downcast little girl.

"Well I wouldn't mind seeing you again my lady." Robb said surprising everyone at the table as he addressed his comment to Hannah.

"Oh err thank you …" Hannah said as she tried to remember how she should address him.

"Call me Robb, and I peak only the truth." Robb said again as he sent a smile at the surprised looking Hannah.

Harry and Daphne exchanged looks at that, Daphne smirking slightly as she saw the hint of confusion in Harry's eyes. "Well this is awkward." He muttered under his breath to Daphne.

Daphne only laughed at that before turning away from Harry and engaging Catelyn and Sansa in conversation about the latest styles and fashions in the south. Something the two of them seemed quite happy to talk about. Harry meanwhile started making small talk with Ned, whilst Robb now engaged Hannah in conversation, with Yara and Neville also in their own little world. Down the other end of the table, Arya had now turned her full attention on Tracey seemingly bombarding the young woman with requests and questions, all of which were ignored as Tracey went back to drinking her ale and eyeing up a few of the better looking Stark guardsmen.

 **( - )**

Entering the bustling courtyard after a long and filling breakfast, Harry and his company soon mounted up, all of them pulling themselves onto their mounts, each of them wearing their full armour, with their weapons sheathed at their sides. Stood near the gateway was Ned Stark and a few of his family, seeing off his guests as was proper, all of them wrapped up in thick fur cloaks to protect them from the cold.

"Well Lord Stark our meeting has certainly been successful, and I thank you for the hospitality you have shown to us whilst we were here." Harry called out from the top of the large black destrier he was riding, his black Goblin chainmail and red dragon hide cuirass making him stand out from the rest of his company, all of whom had donned either silver goblin forged armour, or darker coloured dragon hide and Goblin chainmail armour.

"Indeed Lord Albion, despite the topic our discussion have gone well, and you have earned my respect." Eddard commented with a nod of his head, he got on well enough with Harry and did indeed respect him, but he wouldn't call him a friend, something about the man bothered him and he wasn't sure why. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there was just something off about the man. "I wish you luck in the capital!"

"Thank you my Lord, I can only hope we are as well received there as we were in Winterfell." Harry said calmly.

"Trust in Jon Arryn, but beware of the Lannisters. I am sure you will not need the warning, but they are both powerful and dangerous, and not a House to be crossed lightly." Eddard continued as he though back on his past experiences with the Lannisters.

Harry grimaced at that, he had heard a lot about the Lannister, and most of it was not good. For despite baring the noble symbol of Gryffindor, a lion and the colours of his old House, red and gold, they certainly did not hold true to the philosophies of the House. There was not a noble, honourable or brave one among them, or at least there was not from what Harry had heard in Winterfell.

"I will bare your advice in mind Lord Stark." Harry said with a nod of his head, his horse turning as he began to lead his group from Winterfell. The calls of the younger Stark children echoing behind them as they shouted out there goodbyes, though they could also here the distant voice of Catelyn Stark as she scolded her younger offspring.

Ridding up so she was next to him a smirking Daphne looked over at Harry, "I take it we are not actually going to be riding down the King's Road all the way to King's Landing?"

"Ha! Fuck no!" Harry replied with a bark of laughter, "We will leave Winterfell and probably ride a mile out until with far enough away that no one will be around, then we are going to portkey back to the Iron Islands."

"Good, because I don't think my arse could take a month of riding!" Seamus interrupted with a loud laugh.

"Tell me about it, why did we even have to ride horses in the first place. Give me a Hippogriff or a Thestral any day; these horses are tame in comparison!" Dean added in with a grin on his face.

"You do know we are supposed to be blending in don't you; it is expected of nobles to travel by horse or carriage. If we were to advertise our magic we could have the entire kingdom against us." Daphne said a frown on her face as she looked back at Dean and Seamus.

"Come on they are only muggles, and they don't even have the same technology of the muggles of our world, they are practically savages!" Dean a muggleborn himself spoke up, not because he was biased against muggles, but because he had seen the wonders and destruction magic could do.

"Daphne's right." Harry spoke up, his words silencing the others as they all listened in, the dark haired man having put up a silencing ward after they left Winterfell, just in case there was anyone following them or listening in. "A wizard in battle is probably worth a hundred muggle warriors, and a small group of wizards could face down hundreds if not over a thousand muggles."

Hearing this made Seamus and Dean gain smug looks on their faces, though Daphne merely rolled her eyes, knowing that there was a 'but' coming.

"But, our magical reserves are not everlasting; they will get tired both physically, mentally and magically. Our magic doesn't make us invincible, and the armies of this land outnumber us massively, I have heard that the Westerlands alone can field an army of sixty thousand soldiers and that there are other kingdoms who can field more. Against such number even we will be overwhelmed, especially if all the kingdoms ally together against us. Why do you think it is that the magical of our world went into hiding in the first place?"

That wiped the smug looks from the faces of Dean and Seamus as they both thought about what Harry had said. The others in the group did not look surprise, they having already concluded the same thing.

"So what do we do then?" Dean asked as he looked over at Harry.

"Do?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"If the muggles of this world turn on us?" He responded, an uncertain look on his face. "What do we do then?"

"I doubt we will have anything to worry about, the versatility of a wizards magic will keep any enemies off our backs, and if it doesn't we have the Iron Islands. By the time we are finished we will turn the entire archipelago into a impenetrable fortress, you thought Hogwarts was tough, wait until you see what we will turn the Iron Islands into!"

This cheered Dean and Seamus up, the both of them spending the rest of the short journey discussing all the cool things they could do to the Iron Islands, with Seamus being adamant that they should use their magic and runes to somehow make all seven islands float."

 **( - )**

 **(The Iron Islands, Sometime Later)**

"So!" Harry said with a smile on his face as he looked around at the gathering of people around him."It's been a while since we last met hasn't it."

"Tell me about it." Blaise grunted from where he was sat to Harry's left.

They were all in the large main hall in Pyke, the inner circle of the Order of the Dragon, the new governing body of the Iron Islands had gathered. All of them sat around a large, round, stone table specially transfigured by Harry to mirror the round table from the Arthurian legend. The reason being due to what it represented, a round table to denote that no one person was more important than another. Harry might be the defacto leader and the technical Lord of the House of Albion, but he was not in fact the leader of the Order, that instead was the role of the inner circle.

"So what has been happening on the Iron Islands whilst we were at Winterfell, I have received a few messages, courtesy of Hedwig, but they were quite limited?" Harry began as he looked around at the assembled group. All of them friends and comrades, people he would happily trust with his life.

"The Islands have been pacified, the last of the Iron Born have either been killed or captured." Blaise said gruffly from where he sat, playing with the hilt of his blade as he did so. "Those Iron Born that we managed to capture have had their minds scoured, those guilty of reprehensible crimes have been sent to the Goblins for punishment. Those who are not have been sent to the fields."

Here everyone looked over at Ragnar the leader of the Goblins, who as he saw the looks sent his way grinned viciously. "Those sent to us have been put to work in the mines; there they will pay their debt to society."

"Will any survive zee experience?" Fleur asked from where she sat, her elbows resting lightly on the stone table.

Here Ragnar just shrugged. "I doubt it."

That could a slight shiver to go across the table; they all knew how cruel the Goblins can be, luckily though that cruelty was now directed at those that deserved it.

"What of those sent to the fields?" Harry asked as he looked over at Neville, the person who had been named leader of the Herbologist's and Farming Guild.

The large man scratched his chin slightly as if trying to remember something. He had been named leader upon his arrival back at the island and had spent his time since reading up on the different reports the guild members had written. "They will be forced to work the fields for the rest of their lives, but they won't have unpleasant lives. They will be paid enough to live on, and will be allowed to get married, have children and live a relatively normal life."

"Very well, see to it that they remain well behaved, they are under the responsibility of your Guild." Harry said before turning his attention back to the table at large. "How many Guilds have now been formed then?"

"A large number, though I doubt there will be anymore for a while." Blaise grumbled as he looked down at the note book he had on his table, not actually needing to look at it to recall the ones that have been created. "There are now multiple Guilds spread across the archipelago including; the Potioneer's Guild, Herbologist's and Farming Guild, the Healer's Guild, the Warrior's Guild, the Banking and Commerce Guild, the Smithing and Mining Guild, the Textiles Guild and the Runemaster's Guild."

"Any problems with Guild interests overlapping?" Harry asked as he looked over at Blaise expectantly.

"Some but agreements have now been made." The scarred man replied, sending a withering look around the table at all those involved in the Guilds. Causing more than a few to let out nervous chuckles, know full well that they had pissed him off.

"I take it mixing between the races is encouraged." Harry said as he looked at Firenze the Centaur representative in the inner circle and Ragnar the Goblin's representative. Both of whom nodded in agreement.

"Oui, all races 'ave been integrated into zee Guild's 'Arry." Fleur spoke fluttering her eyelashes at Harry as she did so, a coy smile playing across her face.

"What of the natives to the Iron Islands. Are they being given employment?" Harry asked as he looked around once again, before his gaze fell on Ragnar. "Fair employment?!"

"Yes they have Harry." Neville answered as he leafed through a few of the notes he had in front of him. "Close to four thousand natives are employed by the Herbologist's and Farming Guild, they work the Guild's fields, using the Guild's magical fertilizers and growth formula's and are given some money, housing and food. A further two thousand odd have been given their own land to farm, with access being given to our equipment, they however don't get paid and instead make money off of the surplus crops they grow and sell to the Guild."

"Good." Harry said nodding his appreciation to the rest of the inner circle, knowing as he did so that encouraging the integration would have been a hassle. "What about the other Guilds?"

"Some of them work for the Banking and Commerce Guild, they either act as grunts doing the heavy lifting, or do what they did before, whether it be fishing, hunting etc. only they now work under the Guild and sell to us for a fair profit, and we then go on to sell the product on one of the other islands." Ragnar said, the short Goblin being the leader of the Banking and Commerce Guild. "Other natives are also working under the Smithing and Mining Guild."

Here he got several looks from the rest of the inner circle.

"They do so optionally and are paid." He grumbled, as if affronted by their accusations. Something that came across as very insincere to the rest of the room, who by this point had gotten to know the Goblins very well well enough to know that the Goblin was more than likely tempted to con the natives.

Before he could ask the next question he was interrupted by Ragnar speaking up again, his rough sounding voice gaining the attention of the rest of the room.

"Speaking of the Guild's Potter, when are the port's going to be opened up and the links with the mainland reestablished." The goblin grumbled, his small beady eyes fixed on Harry. "If we want to increase our profits and increase the wealth and prosperity of the Iron Islands we are going to need access to the other kingdoms."

This gained the attention of the rest of the room as they all looked at Harry expectantly.

"Access will be made available next week, Daphne and myself came up with a way to open up the Iron Islands without letting the secret of our magic escape." Harry replied, a slight smile coming to his face as he saw the looks of interest he was sent. "We are going to make every native who wants to leave the island sign a magical contract, one which will not allow them to speak a word about anything we want hidden."

"A magical contract?" Firenze asked, as he looked at Harry confused. "For non-magicals?"

"I am glad you asked, the natives of this world all possess an innate magic, one which is bound to their very souls just like our own magic is. The fact the magic is weaker and they cannot use this magic in the same way as us means nothing, if they lose their magic they will die. It is as simple as that." Harry explained a smirk on his face as he saw the looks of understanding spreading across the rest the faces of the rest of the people present. "Their bodies will naturally not allow them to break this contract as their survival instinct kick in, meaning that they can never break the terms of the contract, at least not without one of us releasing them. Which we can't do as every member of the order signed a contract of loyalty themselves."

"So as long as we make every native sign a contract then our secret will never get out, at least not unless we want it to." Daphne finally added in gaining the attention of the rest of the room. "I will draw up and preliminary contract and pass a draft round to each of you just in case I left a loophole." Daphne continued, though all it took was glance to see she didn't believe they would find a single mistake in her work.

"So the ports will be opened next week." Ragnar said with a nod of his head. "We can work with that, I take it we are going to be repurposing the Iron Born old warships and instead turning them into trading vessels."

"Yes, and those which we can repair after our taking of the island will also be used." Harry agreed before turning his attention to Neville. "Ask Yara to start selecting trustworthy Iron Islanders who are good at sailing, the boats will need a crew, and the natives of the Islands can be employed."

"I will ask her, she should agree, but I don't think she will be too happy about the ships being used for trading. I man she did use to captain warships." Neville said, scratching his chin nervously as he did so.

"Already whipped I see." Harry mused a slight smirk on his face, his comment gaining chuckles from the other occupants of the room. "If Yara has a problem Neville you can tell her from me that it is not a request, I don't give a fuck whether she likes it or not, she used to be an Iron born, a raider and just like the others she'll be punished."

"Like sleeping with Neville isn't punishment enough." Blaise added in under his breath.

"Screw you Blaise!" Neville shouted over the laughter Blaise's comment caused, before he looked over at Harry and winced. "She definitely won't like that, but she will accept it, but I am definitely telling her to blame you."

"Go for it." Harry said with a chuckle.

"Neville being whipped aside, we do have other things to discuss" Daphne interrupted, a bemused expression on her face. "Such as what we will be trading, magical things should be restricted."

"Agreed." Harry said before anyone else could speak. "Things like potions, magical animals, and enchanted armour they are not to be traded outside of the Iron Islands. Not at the moment at least, normal armour and weapons though are fine, as are magically grown crop, herbs and spices."

Ragnar and the others grudgingly agreed with that, each of them giving their assent. "What about precious gems, clothing and jewelry."

"As long as they are not blatantly magical, magic can be used in the process of creating or manufacturing them, but they can't be enchanted." Harry said resolutely, his tone telling the others that he was serious about this.

"We can accept that, our armour and weapons may not be as good a quality, but we can probably produce more from mass manufacturing them?" Ragnar said thoughtfully.

"This doesn't seem fair; the Potioneer's Guild won't be able to profit from trade as much." Padma Patil finally spoke up a frown on her face; the Indian witch had been nominated as leader of the Guild and so represented their interests.

"You know you don't just have to brew magical potions, try your hand at alcohol or poultices as long as they are not blatantly magical, and can't be used against us you can sell them." Harry said a slight frown on his face. "We are going to need to come up with an official standard against which all goods are measured; the Guild's will also need to also agree to that standard."

"But that can be sorted out over the next week." Daphne spoke up deciding to get the meeting back on track. "We will delegate the drawing up of those trading standards to a few of you after the meeting."

This caused some muttering, but eventually they all agreed with the blonde, even Ragnar acknowledging her words, though not without a scowl in her direction.

"Next on the agenda then is the Research and Development department." Harry said directing his and the rest of the inner circles attention to Fred and George Weasley. "An update would be appreciated?"

"Hmm bit of a mixed bag really." Fred began blandly, as he picked at his nails with his teeth. "The first unit of the battle golems are ready, twenty six and half foot stone warriors, clad in armour. They need to be attuned to a specific persons magic, but once that is done they will follow any order given, they have a partial sentience, though they are not particularly smart."

"That's good; we will need to take them for a field test soon. Maybe head beyond the wall and get a firsthand account of these 'Wildlings' we were told about." Harry said thoughtfully. "How easy are they to transport?"

"Bit of a pain really, will take a couple of portkeys to get them there. Though they are probably as fast as a human, might have a tinker around to see if we can make them faster, though doing so would involve making them lighter." George said as he looked over at his twin, who nodded his head before pulling out a notebook and making a few notes.

"What about your other projects? You said it was a mixed bag." Harry said getting both of the twins attention again.

"Well the creation of portals for quick transportation between the islands have hit a bit of a snag. We made need you to have a look at that Harry as you are better than us at runes, that or we will try to borrow a Goblin runemaster from the Runemaster's Guild." Fred finished, before looking over at Ragnar who nodded.

"I will pass on your request when I speak to the leader of the Runemaster's Guild." The Goblin said with a grunt.

"That might be for the best as I don't have much free time at the moment." Harry added in. "What about the communication mirrors project?"

"Again we have hit a snag, the samples you gave us; you know the ones your godfather owned are pretty awesome. But the enchanting is quite complex and we haven't deciphered all the arithmancy involved yet." Fred said a frown once more on his face.

"Give me a copy of what you have found out and I will take a look." Daphne interjected. "I was always good at arithmancy; I wasn't top of the class for nothing you know."

"Yes we know, you might've mentioned it before." Fred said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he did.

Daphne raised an eyebrow at that, ignoring the few chuckles it caused.

Elbowing his brother George gave Daphne a large smile before saying. "What my brother means is thank you oh great and wise Lady Daphne for you kindness and benevolence."

Daphne smirked at that.

"And you called me whipped, she isn't even sleeping with them and she has them whipped." Neville stage whispered to Blaise getting a bark of laughter from the scarred man. Only for them to both gulp and cringe slightly as Daphne turned her piercing gaze on them.

Rolling his eyes Harry decided to take control of the meeting again. "Be nice Daphne."

"I am always nice." The blonde haired girl sniffed, before a sly smile crossed her face. "You should know that better than anyone."

More laughter followed at this.

"Moving swiftly on!" A now slight pink faced Harry said is voice raised as he made himself heard over the laughter at his expense. "I have a project I want the R&D department to take a look at, I have made some preliminary notes for a mass expansion of the seven main islands. This will increase the land available to us and will reduce any friction between the different guilds."

"Hmm expansion on such a large scale is tricky." Ragnar added in, "We Goblins are well practiced in it; we often had to do it when expanding our underground realms. We could take over that project."

"That would be appreciated." Harry acknowledged as he wandlessly levitated his notes on the project to the Goblin. Ignoring as he did so the excited murmuring his statement had caused. "I will direct some of the Orders resources your way to help you out."

Ragnar absently nodded in acknowledgment before focusing on Harry's notes, his scraggly eyebrows rising as he read them.

"Now any other business?" Harry asked as he looked around the room.

"Yeah." Blaise said as he stood up, his new blade 'Red Rain' a magical sword plundered from the former House of Drumm sheathed at his side. Ragnar's eyes looking up from Harry's notes narrowing slightly as they inspected the unfamiliar red blade sheathed at Blaise's side. "The work on the defenses of the archipelago has slowed, I would like some funding from the Order to see it finished. At the moment the defensive walls and wards have been erected around four islands, but three of the islands have only been half finished. Also I would like to get some of those rune cannons we used on the Remnant; I want to create a couple of gun batteries."

"The funding request is fine, the cannons though might be a problem, and they are expensive and take a long time to make." Harry replied before looking over at Ragnar for confirmation.

"We have a small supply of cannons going spare; we were going to use them in the defense of our mines. But with the creation of the Guilds the Goblin's are now very much spread over the entire archipelago. We will donate the eighty three we have to the defense of the Iron Islands." Ragnar said, gaining a murmur of appreciation from around the table. "But in compensation I would like access to that sword you have on your hip."

That drew the attention of the room, looking over at Blaise they too noticed the blade at his side, and more importantly they noticed the faint amount of magic it was releasing.

"Sure." Blaise grumbled as he unbelted his sword and passed it over to the Goblin. "But I want it back, call it spoils of war."

Harry nodded absently at that, his eyes instead focused on the weapons now in Ragnar's hands. "I would be interested in hearing what you find out about that weapon, we still don't know a huge amount about the magic of this land."

Ragnar grunted at that, his focus now entirely on the blade in his hands.

"I have a point of business." Daphne called out getting the attention of the rest of the room, well everyone except Ragnar. "Harry, myself and a number of others will be heading to King's Landing in a month's time as you know."

This gained a nod of acknowledgment from the rest of the inner circle.

"During my time there I will be making some connections with the other powerful Houses in Westeros. What I want to do is to begin setting up diplomatic ties with the other kingdoms, mainly to do with trade. I have already discussed this with the Stark's in Winterfell, and am contemplating setting up and embassy there. For this I will need volunteers, and also more information on what we will be trading and who we will be wanting to trade with." Daphne said, her words drawing looks of interest from the rest of the room. "After my meeting at King's Landing I am planning to go two see the Tyrell's at Highgarden, so the sooner I have this information the better."

This gained another murmur of acknowledgment

"Alright is there any other business?" Harry asked looking around. All those present either shook their heads or said no. "Good then for now we will go about our assigned tasks, we will have another meeting after the visit to King's Landing."

Once again everyone nodded, people beginning to get up from their chairs a few of them joking about with each other. Their attention however was captured by Harry speaking again.

"Just before you all leave though I would like to announce that while I am in King's Landing Blaise is going to be heading the Order." Harry said a grin on his face as he saw the thunderous expression Blaise threw his way.

"Potter!" Blaise growled, even as the other occupants of the room began to laugh.

 **AN: Right so I hope people like this chapter, my last one got a mixed response as a couple seemed to like it but the vast majority did not. The problem it appears comes from the inclusion of the second group in the story. I will admit I didn't think people would have such a problems with it, I added them into the plan after thinking people would find it interesting to have a rival magical power base in Esso. Obviously I was wrong. Now since put them in after I made the main plan I am willing to remove them from the story entirely if people thinking that having them in is such a bad idea. I do after all read all the reviews and even some of the supportive ones were telling me it was not great. Which has made me decide to do a poll about it, I do after all ask for reviews for this very reason, so I am going to be putting a poll on my bio page about whether or not I should remove the second group from the story.**

 **I myself am ambivalent about it, I can easily write them out as they don't play a particularly important role. So I will put an open poll which will be open until Sunday. At which point I will close it and either leave the story as is, or edit out the other group.**

 **This will be done on the Sunday so you have until then to either vote via review or poll, after all I am more than willing to admit I make mistakes and if my readers think this second group is a mistake I will take it into account and remove them, I do after all want to make this the best story I can.**

 **So anyway always comment and review as I do take into account you thoughts, ideas and comments even the negative ones. And I also appreciate your encouragement as that makes me want to take time out of my busy day to write.**

 **So yeah see you all soon, and I hope you liked this chapter.**

 **Seagate.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: So here is the next chapter I hope you all like it. I had hoped to move the story onto King's Landing but I kind of got really into this chapter. Still though I think it is quite good. The next chaos halfway done so might be out next week sometime.**

 **So yeah anyway hope you all like it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Song of Ice And Fire or Game of Thrones.**

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 10**

 **(With Harry in the Far North)**

The land beyond the Wall was a cold and unforgiving place, the ice cold winds blew through the spindly trees that dotted the landscape. The snow piled up high, sometimes metres deep in some places. It was an inhospitable place, a harsh landscape where only the strong could live. The residents of this cold tundra were known by those south of the Wall as 'Wildlings', though they often referred to themselves as the 'Free Folk'.

The Free Folk were a nomadic people, often separating themselves into small tribes that constantly travelled across the land beyond the Wall. Moving to places where there were resources, before moving away when those resources were depleted. These varied in the ways they lived, most relied on hunting and fishing to live, but a few relied on cannibalism. At the same time some of the tribes were quite civilized, some however, like the ones who lived north of the Frozen Shore and in the arctic wastes west of the Frost fangs were truly cannibalistic savages.

It was these tribes of cannibals like some of the river tribes, which gave all Free Folk a bad reputation. For these tribes were savages, driven mad by their consummation of human flesh, they truly were primitive savages.

It was in this icy tundra that Harry and his group arrived, with a slight explosion of snow as their feet slammed into the ground, Harry, Blaise, Fred and George all appeared via portkey. Within seconds of their appearance there were four more explosions of snow, this signaled the arrival of the golems they had brought here for testing. There stood knee deep in the snow were twenty, six and a half foot tall golems, made of stone and clad in the Goblin's mass manufactured armour. Each of the golems held a large four foot tall shield in their left arm, and a Goblin forged steel weapon in their right hand. The weapons varied between swords, hammers and axes. Overall the golems looked very formidable.

"Alrighty then!" George said as he clasped his hands together a large grin on his face. "I think it is time to properly test these bad boys out!"

"All we need now is a target for them to destroy!" Fred added in, his face showing an identical smile to George's. "Harry, got any preferred target?"

"Yeah, I flew around this area last week in my animagus form, scouted out quite a lot of it." Harry began as he looked around, the area from ground level looking quite different than it did from the air, it was one of the downsides of scouting in his hawk form, everthign looked slight different in a bird's perspective. There were a lot more hills and rocky crevices than he thought, but even so he knew where they were, and he also knew where their target was. "What we are looking for is a nearby 'Wildling' village, it's a ramshackle place which is far from here, just over that hill and near the river." Harry said gesturing gin the direction of the village as he did so.

"A village Harry? Isn't that a bit…?" George began an uncertain look on his face as he looked over at Harry.

"A bit what?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow as he turned to look at the twins.

"Well you know… a bit messed up." Fred trailed off looking a bit uncomfortable. It was one thing attacking the Iron Islands, they had struck first, and what was more they were murdering, raiding savages who deserved to be killed. But attacking a random village that had not done anything to them, that was something they were not as comfortable with.

"Did I mention that the clans of Wildlings near this river are cannibals that hunt down their fellow 'Wildlings' and eat them, among other things…" Harry commented idly, giving the duo a bland look as he did so.

"Sounds like they deserve it to me." Blaise added in with a feral smirk now visible on the small amount of his face that was not covered by his silver mask. "If you think about it we are doing a good deed."

"Well yeah that does make it easier, but what do we do about the children and other innocence?" Fred asked, now looking less uncomfortable with unleashing his and his twin's creations on cannibalistic savages.

Blaise shrugged at that, as if to say 'who cares'.

Harry though frowned slight before replying. "They will be kept alive; we will bring them back with us to the Iron Islands and give them to the mind healers. Hopefully they are not too far gone and can be integrated into the local population."

Blaise once again grunted at that.

Fred and George however looked much happier. "Alright that sounds like a good idea. We might as well get a move on then."

With that said the two twins went over to the golems, their nimble hands taking off the breastplate of the nearest one, revealing its stone torso to the other two. Looking closer, Harry's enhanced eyes picked up the numerous bands of runes running across the chest. His mind already deciphering the complex script picking out as he did the command rune, the animation rune and then other assorted strength and durability runes. Walking over to the two already knowing what they were doing, Harry raised his hand and placed it on the largest rune on the chest, the control rune, channeling a bit of his magic into it, not needing any prompting from the twins, he watched as the numerous faintly glowing symbols suddenly shone an icy blue colour as Harry's magic flooded through them. Looking up at the helmeted head, he could briefly make out to glowing blue eyes behind the dark visor. A few seconds later though the brightly lit runes that were spread out across the stony torso, had once again returned to a dull glow.

"Right then, this golem should be attuned to your magic, meaning it will now obey all your commands." George said as he gave the runes another once over before putting the chest plate back on. "Now we just need to do the other nineteen."

Harry rolled his eyes at that before letting out a sigh and going to help the twins. The attunement of the other nineteen golems did not take long as the three of them worked together, a bored Blaise opting to stay on watch instead of messing about with runes. Soon enough though they had them all attuned to Harry and were ready to move out.

"Ok, I want all of you to follow us in a square formation." Harry called out, directing the semi-sentient golems with his will as he did so. The stone golems instantly obeying his command as they arranged themselves in a prefect square formation, all twenty of them now stood silently behind Harry, Fred, George and Blaise.

"Now you will follow us." Harry called out again as he drew his sword from his sheath, holding the thin blade in his left hand, prepared to use it at a moment's notice. His right hand also began to crackle with magic as he walked forward, the twenty armoured golems walking along behind. His reason for such caution was simple, they were in enemy territory, and it was possible that the natives would try and ambush them. And no matter how powerful someone was, if they were caught unprepared din an ambush they could die.

The other three wizards with him followed his lead. Blaise unsheathing 'Red Rain', the Valyrian Steel sword he claimed when he destroyed House Drumm, the red blade having only been returned to him the other day by the Goblin's. Who in the three weeks since the meeting had apparently been running a number of experiments on the blade, testing out first how to recreate it, and second whether it was better than their own steel. So far they were impressed.

Fred and George each pulled out an axe, the two of them resting their weapons on their shoulders as they casually followed Harry and Blaise.

The group travelled for twenty minutes in silence, the only sound coming from the golem's feet as the snow compacted beneath their armourd boot. Eventually the group found themselves on the top of one of the rocky hill that dotted the landscape, looking down on the small ramshackle villages at the bottom of the hill as they did so. The village had a fast flowing river on one side and some mountainous hills on the other.

Looking down at it in interest, Harry's eyes darted from patched tent to patched tent, noticing as he did so that they were made out of leather. Some of it dark in colour, looking to come from some kind of animal, other parts of the tent however looked slightly more human in nature. The feeling of revulsion began to build up in Harry as he saw that, the feeling only growing as he took note of what some of the visible cannibals were doing, a group of them were gathered around a fire, cooking meat of spits over the open flames. The meat in question looked suspiciously like a human leg.

"Right golems I want you to advance. We will follow behind; sending artillery spells over your heads. Your job is to defend us from physical attack, so we can use our magic uninterrupted." Harry ordered, a smile coming to his face as he saw the golems move. The stone warriors now encircling the three wizards on all sides, their weapons now unsheathed, their helmeted faces pointed in the direction of the Wildling village. "Now advance!"

As one the golems began to advance down the hill in the direction of the nearby village. The action catching the attention of the Wildlings, the small village bursting into activity as the cannibals went for their weapons. Some of them letting out roars of anger at this intrusion on their land, like ants surging out of their nest, the Wildlings erupted from their tribal village, the warriors grabbing weapons to fight with even as the children and women folk scrambled for cover in their ragged hovels.

The name Wildlings truly fit these people. Their skins was grubby and grimy, probably due to them not properly washing themselves, due to how cold it was this far north. They wore clothing made up of rotting fur and leather. A number of them wore human remains as trophies, the one leading the charge was a giant of a man, almost seven feet tall in height, and covered in a ragged grey cloak, the rest of his clothing looked like it had been stitched together from a number of different pelts. In the man's hand there was a large crudely made battle axe, which looked to be made of bronze. It was a good quality weapon in comparison to some of the equipment the charging Wilding's used. Many of them used spears made out of sharpened branches, or had clubs made of bone or wood, with chunks of stone protruding from them. Several of them carried metal weapons though; however the weapons were poorly maintained and often made out of rusted iron or bronze.

As one the tribal warriors charged up the hill towards Harry and his companions. There were almost one hundred of them in total, and more seemed to charge out of the village. Harry frowned as he watched this; these Wildlings, they had no sense of strategy and well just no sense in general. Their first instinct when confronted was to attack, even if that meant charging uphill against an organized and better armed group, relying on sheer numbers and ferocity over martial skill and tactics.

"Hold!" Harry shouted raising his arm above his head as he did so. These primitive Wildlings, they reminded him of the 'tainted ones', humans who had been mutated and had gone mad, only driven forward by their most basic instincts, driven forward by the need to kill and eat.

Around Harry the golems came to a standstill, all of them waiting for the next order as they passively looked down on the charging horde. His fellow wizards also stopped, but unlikely the golems, they looked down on the Wildlings with disgust. No doubt they too were reminded of the 'tainted ones', one of the last remnants of humanity.

"Stand ready!" Harry called, his right hand glowing red as he raised it into the air.

The golems raised their shields standing ready, the golems interlocking their large shields to create a shield wall as they did so, their weapons also prepared to at a moment's notice to burst forth from the shield wall and lay down the pain on the charging Wildlings.

"Blaise, Fred, George." Harry called out looking over at his fellow wizards, no longer directing his will towards the golems, in order for them not to get confused over his orders. "Prepare an artillery bombardment!"

The three men nodded, as Blaise raised his own glowing hand into the air. Whilst Fred and George withdrew their wands from their wrist guards, hefting their axes with their left hands as they did so. The usually mischievous twins no longer looked quite as nonchalant as they did before; their faces were now taught with tension as they prepared themselves for the conflict ahead.

The Wilding's by this point had closed in on Harry's group, the cannibals letting out battle screams as they prepared to engage the wall of steel before them.

"Unleash hell!" Harry shouted again, a large condensed bolt of red magic erupting out of his hand as he did so, the bolting shooting over the top of the golem's heads before it descended down upon the crowd of cannibalistic Wildlings. Blaise, Fred and George all added their own bolts of red magic to the bombardment, their own attacks not being quite as big or dense as Harry's but still being effective.

As Harry's bolt of magic struck the horde, the bolt hitting one of the charging Wildlings dead centre in their chest, as it struck it exploded outwards, ripping apart the ground at their feet and disintegrating everything within fifteen feet of the epicentre. Blaise, Fred and George's attacks also struck, each of them creating their own explosions, as condensed magic erupted from their wands and rained down on the charging mob of Wildlings.

"And again!" Harry called out as he released another bolt. "Aim at the back of the group, make sure they can't retreat! We need them to engage the golems in combat!"

The others nodded grimly as they continued to rain fire and death down upon the Wildings. The bombardment of spells now landing behind enemy lines, the explosions tearing apart the earth and scaring the Wildlings in the direction of the wall of waiting golems, the savage men scrambling forwards, in the hopes of getting away from the fire and death behind them.

"Here they come!" Harry shouted as he sent another 'bombardment' spell over the heads of the wall of stone and steel. "Golems! Engage for combat!"

A ringing of steel was the response Harry received, as the golems clattered their shields together, tightening the shield wall.

With screams of fear, hate and anger, the now much decreased horde of Wildlings crashed against the golems. In the moment before they made contact, the golems as one took a half step forward, ramming their thick metal shields forward as they did so. The first line of Wildings were sent crashing backwards, the wild men landing on the ground only to be trampled by their oncoming fellows.

"Hold the bombardment!" Harry called out to the rest of his group. "Let's test the combat abilities of the golems."

At his words the spells from the wizards stopped, as they instead just watched the melee in front of them.

The golems were entirely silent as they fought what they lacked in skill they more than made up for in strength and durability, wielding their large weapons with devastating results. Their Goblin forged blades cut through the leather and fur armour the Wildlings wore. The strength of the blows were so great they slammed the Wildlings into the ground, this was practically a death sentence, as even if the blows they received were not fatal, they still would find themselves trampled to death by their comrades.

Through it all Harry kept an eagle eye on the fight, taking not of the strength and weaknesses the golems showed. As whilst it was true they were incredibly strong and durable, they weren't unstoppable. The golems were slower than an average human, and their attacks were very straight forward. They lacked the initiative a living breathing human had. Still though they were effective and were carrying out the job they were created for well.

The golems had been created to be a walking shield wall, an impenetrable defense that will hold back the superior numbers of the non-magical armies, allowing the magical to unleash their attacks without fear of being overwhelmed by the enemy. It also took of the need for them to defend themselves from physical attack, whilst also casting their spells. So overall the golems provided an effective defense however that was against ill-equipped and untrained Wildlings who were half mad. How effective they would be against armies of well trained knights and men-at-arms was yet to be seen. One thing that they would not have to worry about though was stray arrow fire. With the defense the golems provided, it meant they could have several wizards maintaining a permanent ward that would turn any projectile sent art them away. This they had found after the invasion of the Iron Islands, was necessary, a number of them had been struck by stray arrows sent from the Iron Fleet. The wizards hit had not been expecting it and so were not able to respond quick enough to defend themselves. With a permanent ward in place however, such dangers should be a thing of the past, the arrows and other projections hopefully being deflected away

Back with the battle Harry could see that the Wildling horde was thinning, as the unrelenting, untiring golems continued to attack them. As Harry focused in he could see that the leader was still alive, the massive man having taken charge of the remnant of his tribe. His eyes wide with rage fuelled terror as he struck out at one of the golems with his large bronze battleaxe.

Harry was about to look away and instead give the order for the other wizards to begin the bombardment, and bring the test to the end, when something caught his eye. Looking at what it was, he was able to see the hulking leader strike one of the golems again, only this time Harry's eyes noticed the mass produced chainmail links at the juncture between the golem's neck and shoulder break.

It appeared Harry wasn't the only one to notice as with a scream the axe wielding man grabbed one of his last remaining warriors, and threw him at the golem in question. The golem following its orders and bringing its large steel sword down on the unfortunate man, the strike cleaving through the man's shoulder and getting stuck halfway into his chest.

Taking advantage of this, the tribal chief lifted his axe above his head, before bringing it down in the same spot on the golem's neck. The bronze axe head cracking slightly at the force of the blow, but even so it still managed to get through the broken chainmail. With a crash the golem collapsed to the ground, its body falling apart into a small pile of rock.

Seeing this, the tribal chief, looked shocked for a moment, before he threw his head back and let loose a scream of victory. The scream quickly came to an end though when Harry flicked his hand in the man's direction, releasing a small bolt of corrosive yellow magic as he did so. The large man's scream trailed off as he looked dumbly down at his chest, his face showing his confusion as he tried to work out why he had a large smoking hole going straight through his chest. Soundlessly the man collapsed backwards, dead before he hit the ground.

This was the last straw for the Wildlings though as with shouts and screams they turned and ran, heading back to the safety of their village, dodging around craters and dead bodies as they did so.

"Blaise" Harry said, getting the attention of his left-hand man. "I think it is time we do our part."

The small part of Blaise's face that was still visible behind his silver mask, curved up into a wicked grin as he nodded his head in assent

Seeing that Harry let out a bark of laughter, before with a faint crack he apparated away. Appearing again next to one of the fleeing Wildling's his blade already mid swing as he tore through the man's throat with ease. Not even waiting a second, he apparated again, this time though he appeared in front of a fleeing woman. A particularly vile woman though, one who had the skull of a baby hanging like a pendent from her neck. Without a hint of regret Harry lunged forward, his rapier piercing the woman's throat with ease, as he apparated away again the motion caused his sword to rip through the rest of her neck, effectively beheading her.

Whilst this was happening, Blaise was not idle, apparating himself, he appeared above one of the fleeing men, his armoured boot landing on the man with his full weight behind it, crushing the man's skull as Blaise landed. Lashing out with his free hand he bisected one of the few remaining Wildlings with a dark cutting curse. Turning back around he vanished again, only this time he appeared mid swing in front of the last remaining Wilding. With barely any effort at all, Blaise's red blade sliced through the Wildling's neck, decapitating him with a single swing.

"Alright!" Harry called as Blaise, Fred and George appeared next to him via apparation. "Fred you collect up the fallen golem and find out what went wrong."

Fred nodded as he apparated away, already thinking on possible reasons the golem was destroyed so easily by the axe swinging Wildling.

"George and Blaise you two are going to come with me to the village. Kill anyone who attacks you, but don't harm any children or those who surrender. We'll take them to the mind healer's and see if they are salvageable." Both of the men nodded as they followed Harry down to the now mostly empty and panicking Wildling village.

"Golems follow!" He called over his shoulder, making all nineteen stone warriors move, ll of them marching in formation behind the three leading wizards.

 **( - )**

 **(A day later on the Iron Islands)**

"So it was a good initial test." Harry summarized as he looked around at the people around him.

He was currently stood in the main hall of Pyke, where he was holding an informal meeting with Fred, George, Daphne, Neville, Fleur and Ragnar. The purpose of the current meeting was a discussion on the recent events in the north and what would happen next.

"Have you found out what went wrong with the one that was destroyed?" An impatient Ragnar griped, as his beady eyed gaze burned a hole in Fred and George.

"Well, we have worked out that the axe strike that broke through the chainmail also damaged the rune script. This had a knock on effect of causing all the connected runes to fail and the golem to fall to pieces."George replied with a thoughtful expression, his brother Fred nodding along in agreement.

"I thought the stone was supposed to be unbreakable, how could a simple bronze axe break it?" Blaise asked in confusion, the man had never specialized in runes.

"Runes are a finicky subject just like magic. Just because you spell or enchant something to be unbreakable does mean that it is. I mean looking at the walls of Hogwarts, they were destroyed during the war, and those stones were far more ancient and protected than those golems." Harry spoke up as he looked around at the group. "A common misconception is that runes are limitless, that is incorrect. Runes just like every other branch of magic have limitations, whether they are human limitations or physical."

"Alright so how do we fix this problem?" Daphne asked getting the conversation back on track before Harry went on one of his rants/lectures on runes and how people are generally idiots.

"We will just have to thicken the armour at the joints, that or remove some of the script. But that will decrease the golem's performance; I mean we could make it so they are practically indestructible, but then to do that we would have to probably disable the offensive capabilities." Fred spoke up with a shrug.

"It's all about balance really, like with most things." George added in.

"Ok then, with that said we might need to strengthen the chainmail." Harry began as he looked over at Ragnar thoughtfully.

"The armour is mass manufactured by the Goblin smiths, it is the kind we have begun selling to the other Kingdoms. It is better than that castle forged steel crap they use, but nowhere near as strong as proper Goblin forged steel." Ragnar answered with a sneer. "If you want the highest quality armour it will be a lot more expensive and a lot more time consuming for our smiths."

"Which would put a dent in the amount of money you are now making in trade, as those smiths won't be able to create the jewelry and armour for export anymore." Harry guessed as he gave the Goblin a thoughtful look, getting a nod from the Goblin in response. "How about changing the pattern of the chainmail?"

This gained him confused looks from the rest of the group.

"What I am talking about it what if we make runic patterns in the chainmail and imbue them with magic, and use that to strengthen the chainmail." Harry said as he looked over at Ragnar, getting a small mod from the Goblin.

"That is possible." He agreed grudgingly. "But a proper design will be needed."

"We'll take care of that." Fred said, before looking over at Harry. "I mean you are heading off to King's Landing tomorrow, and fuck knows when you will be back."

"Ok then I will leave it up to you." Harry replied. "You might as well head off now; the rest of the meeting isn't really about R&D."

"Ok, we'll catch up with you again later." Fred nodded, thankful to be out of the meeting. It is not that they weren't useful; it's just that he would rather be doing other things. "We have just had a breakthrough on the mirrors, so we will hopefully have those sorted within the next month."

"Good!" Harry nodded, a smile making its way across his face, "I am glad my notes were useful. The sooner we get them the better. Instant communication will be a very useful advantage for us in a primitive world like this one."

"Gotcha!" Fred said with a grin before he and George apparated away with twin cracks.

"I to will go." Ragnar decided as he looked over at Harry. "Now that the Island's trading has been established, and the fleet is beginning to ship our goods to the other kingdoms, the incomes of the Islands have increased. We are in the midst of opening up a new Gringotts here in Westeros, at first dealing with the Islands and the Guilds, but soon as our reputation grows we will expand."

"Well keep in mind the need for secrecy. We don't want the knowledge of our magic getting gout." Harry replied.

"We have already hired and trained natives who will be acting on our behalf when necessary." Ragnar grumbled back, quite irritated with not being able to do all his business face to face like he preferred. "Good thing we got those contracts sorted out!"

"True the contracts have been useful in making sure we remain anonymous. I am just thankful though that the natives were so amenable to the idea." Harry responded calmly.

"They are making money and living comfortably, what have they got to complain about." Ragnar grumbled again, as he shuffled his way to the door of the room. "Make sure you don't screw up at King's Landing human, we have only just begun making gold again, we don't want you to fuck it up."

"Glad to see that you are as charming as ever Ragnar!" Harry called cheerfully back to the Goblin, getting more muttering in response. The Goblins were a prickly bunch, but most of them were pretty decent if you gave them a chance. Ragnar especially was very accommodating, even if he was often rude and bad tempered.

"Right then, Fleur you said you had something to say?" Harry asked, turning to look at the silvery haired Veela.

"Oui, we 'ave looked at zose Wildlings you brought back with you." She replied, with an unusually somber look on her face. "Zee children are mostly ok, we 'ave erased their memories and 'ave begun teaching them from scratch. Several families 'ave shown interest in adopting them, though they d not know of their Wildling heritage."

"Good, I think we should keep it that way, it will give those kids a chance to start from scratch." Harry decided. It may seem a bit harsh, but it was better than the alternative of having been born to cannibal savages who would murder any person they could find and eat them.

"Oui, I though zat is what you would want." Fleur said with a slight smile to Harry.

"What about the other ones they brought back." Daphne interrupted, shooting Fleur a warning glace as she did so. She may be a pureblood and somewhat used to the concept of polygamy among several other taboos which normal society would turn their noses up at. But she would be dammed before she allowed Fleur to slither into bed with Harry, or at least not unless she gave her permission, which at the moment was very unlikely.

"Zey are a bit more troubling." Fleur said a frown on her beautiful face. "Many of zem are mentally damaged, zey have seen and experienced 'orrific things. Also the consumption of human flesh 'as driven some of zem mad."

"Can anything be done?" Harry asked a frown on his own face.

"Just kill them and put them out of their misery." Blaise growled, as he shrugged uncaring about the plight of the people.

"Non!" Fleur said her eyes flashing dangerously as she glared at Blaise. "Zey can be rehabilitated; we are using potions to fix the damages to their minds and brains. We have also begun purging their memories; zee process is taking a while though. The magic resistance they 'ave, is making our mind magic's not as effective as they should be."

"You had no trouble with the children though?" Daphne asked in interest.

"Their minds were simpler, and more receptive to magic."Fleur shrugged. "We can do it, but it will take a while, maybe a month to make sure we 'ave purged every bad memory completely, and maybe another week to explain how zey came to be here and to give them new lives."

"Hmm, see it done, the Island's are under populated at the moment there is more than enough capacity for more." Harry said, gaining a nod from Fleur.

"I will see it done 'Arry." Fleur said, before a smile made its way across her face. "But it may go faster if you were to help."

"Harry is about to go to King's Landing." Daphne interrupted. "But I am just as accomplished at mind magic's as Harry, so I can always lend a hand."

"But wait Daph I thought you were coming to King's Landing with me?" Harry said with confusion as he looked over at his lover.

"Well unfortunately due to reasons which I will discuss with you later I won't be going with you anymore." She replied as she looked over at Harry before looking at the rest of them.

"Ok so…" Harry began unsure what to say next.

"So I will be helping Fleur in the hospital, and setting up diplomatic relations with the other Kingdoms. I have already decided to send Michael Corner and Hannah Abbott back to Winterfell. The both of them will act as our ambassador's there, both protecting our interests and making sure we are kept informed of things going on in Winterfell and the North." Daphne continued, talking over Harry as she outlined her own plan. Her eyes flashing to Fleur briefly in a way that said 'we will need to talk',

Fleur nodded her head in confirmation, even as Neville and Blaise nodded to, neither of them wanting to argue.

"Right but…" Harry began again.

"In my place I will be sending Tracey with you, she's a born and bred Slytherin and will be very useful for you to have with you in King's Landing." Daphne once again interrupted. "After all you are many things Harry; a great leader, a skilled fighter and an incredibly talented wizard. But you are not a Politian, you can deal with the northerners, but these southerners are a whole different breed."

"I agree, which is why I wanted you to be with me." Harry spoke up, not letting Daphne talk over him again. "I agree that your ideas about diplomacy are good, but they can wait until after King's Landing."

Daphne didn't reply to that, instead she turned to the rest of the room. "Blaise can you go and make sure the last of the preparations for King's Landing are complete."

Blaise looked to Harry at that, before agreeing to the request at Harry's nod, the masked man turning and leaving the room after he received the confirmation.

"Neville, I know you and Hagrid want to do an expedition north of the Wall looking for new plants and animals. Start drawing up plans and making preparations, I will have a look at them when I get back from King's Landing." Harry ordered as he looked up at his friend.

"Right" Neville nodded his head, taking his dismissal well. "I need to talk to Ragnar anyway, the Herbology and Farmer's Guild has started making a lot of money from the North and the Vale, so much so that we are going to need the Goblin's to start managing our finances. It looks like the Order is going to be very well funded from just us alone, and that is not taking into account how much the other Guild's are beginning to make."

As he said that Neville began to make his way out of the room, already planning to catch up with Ragnar.

That left Harry, Daphne and Fleur in the room.

"Fleur you head back to the main hospital on Old Wyk. I will catch up with you later." Daphne said not eve looking at Fleur as she did so.

"Ok," Fleur replied slightly confused as she turned to apparate away, so much so that she didn't even flirt with Harry again before she left.

Turning back to Daphne now they were the only ones left in the room, Harry made to speak, only for Daphne to cut him off again.

"Neville's right you know, with all the money we have been getting from the different Guild's we will have surplus of funding, and that is from just three weeks of trading. Imagine what it will be like when we fully establish our trade. That being said we haven't had much expenditure yet, after all we have been using magic to reinforce the Islands defense and improve the infrastructure on all seven Islands." Daphne began to speak, rambling away as she avoided eye contact with Harry as she did so.

"Daphne" Harry said calmly as he put his hand on her shoulder.

"But it's only going to get better once we extend to Essos. Though we will need to send some people to scout it out before we establish any proper connection…" She continued, still not looking at him.

"Daphne, what is the matter. Why do you not want to come to King's Landing?" Harry asked gently as he turned her so she was facing him, making sure to make eye contact with her as he did so.

Daphne's icy blue eyes widened at that, before she started biting her lip nervously.

"It wouldn't be safe" She muttered uncharacteristically.

"What do you mean, of course it will be safe, and I mean there will be a dozen highly trained magical with you, we are more than a match for a load of unprepared muggles." Harry said, once again trying to calm her down.

"You don't know that though, these people, Catelyn told me about them, they deal in poison and assassination just as much as they deal in politics." Daphne said quietly.

"And you're worried they might get to you?" Harry asked concerned, this was not like Daphne; she was a strong and intelligent woman, braver than anyone he had met before. "If they so much as harmed a single hair on your head Daphne I would burn the entire Red Keep to the ground with Fiendfyre, without a second thought, you know that don't you?"

"Yes I know you will protect me no matter what, but it is not me that I am worried about." Daphne responded, the beautiful blonde now looking distinctly nervous.

"What do you mean Daph?" Harry asked once again confused where this was going.

"I'm pregnant Harry"

Harry blinked, that was the last thing he expected her to say.

 **( - )**

 **AN: So I hope you liked that and the slight rewrite on chapters 5 and 8. I am sure many people will have guessed that thing with Daphne, but if not surprise... hahaha.**

 **Anyway as always please drop a comment or a revie. I read them all and take them into account as I move the story forward. Next chapter will be out soon and it will involve Harry's arrival in King's Landing and all the plots that go with that.**

 **For some reason people seem to be misunderstanding the size of the golems. As stated in the chapter they are 6 and a half feet tall. Not 26 feet tall like some people seem to believe. I am not sure where this misunderstanding came from but I thought I would clear it up now.**

 **I have had some questions about when canon will start. It will probably begin in a few chapters.**

 **So yeah please review, review, review! And I will see you all later.**

 **Seagate**


	11. Chapter 11

****AN: Here is the next chapter I hope you all like it. The story is moving along now I estimate there is probably another three chapters till canon starts and I have some pretty cool ideas for it. Got some really good reviews for the last few chapters, unfortunately I have not been able to reply to all of them as I have been very busy at work. But I have read them all and I really do enjoy reading them. Also I have taken them into account when writing this chapter.****

 ** **Though to clarify, The golems are six and a half foot tall, not twenty-six foot. I can see where misunderstood it and have stuck an apostrophe in there to make it more understandable.****

 ** **Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter, Game of Thrones or A song of Ice and Fire.****

 ** **( - )****

 ** _ **(Last Time)**_**

 **" _Daphne, what is the matter. Why do you not want to come to King's Landing?" Harry asked gently as he turned her so she was facing him, making sure to make eye contact with her as he did so._**

 ** _Daphne's icy blue eyes widened at that, before she started biting her lip nervously._**

 **" _It wouldn't be safe" She muttered uncharacteristically._**

 **" _What do you mean, of course it will be safe, and I mean there will be a dozen highly trained magical with you, we are more than a match for a load of unprepared muggles." Harry said, once again trying to calm her down._**

 **" _You don't know that though, these people, Catelyn told me about them, they deal in poison and assassination just as much as they deal in politics." Daphne said quietly._**

 **" _And you're worried they might get to you?" Harry asked concerned, this was not like Daphne; she was a strong and intelligent woman, braver than anyone he had met before. "If they so much as harmed a single hair on your head Daphne I would burn the entire Red Keep to the ground with Fiendfyre, without a second thought, you know that don't you?"_**

 **" _Yes I know you will protect me no matter what, but it is not me that I am worried about." Daphne responded, the beautiful blonde now looking distinctly nervous._**

 **" _What do you mean Daph?" Harry asked once again confused where this was going._**

 **" _I'm pregnant Harry"_**

 ** _Harry blinked, that was the last thing he expected her to say._**

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 11**

 **( - )**

 **(King's Landing)**

An old man looked out of one of the large windows of the Red Keep, his brow furrowed as he looked out over Blackwater Bay. It had been nearly a month since he, Jon Arryn, had sent the new Lord of the Iron Islands, this Lord Harold a letter. The reply they had received had been short, nothing more than them confirming that they would be traveling to King's Landing for Prince Joffrey's nameday tournament and to swear fealty to the King and meet with the Small Council. The meeting with the Small Council would be nothing more than a formality, the Iron Islands had the right to choose their own leader and there was nothing the Small Council could do about it, which was the only reason Balon of House Greyjoy was allowed to maintain lordship over the Islands after his failed rebellion.

No, the real reason they were coming was to give their fealty to the King, and so that he and others could meet them. The Iron Islands had been making waves in Westeros, especially in the last few weeks. The Small Council had been informed by Varys the Master of Whispers that the Iron Born had stopped their piracy and were instead taking to the seas as traders. This sudden changed of their famously stubborn society was very surprising, but more than that it was concerning. It showed Jon that this Harold had a lot of influence over his subjects, so much so that he convinced them to stop their raiding, one of the fundamental principles of their society. Such a man could either be a great ally for the realm, or a great nuisance. So far he was hoping he would be an ally. The kingdom was after all already four million in debt to the Lannisters, Tyrells and the Iron Bank, and the sudden wealth of the Iron Islands would be a useful boon for the kingdom, even if it only shared the weight of their debt, allowing him as Hand of the King to reclaim some power and influence from the Lannisters.

Still though, whether they would be allies or enemies was yet to be seen. He had asked Varys to keep him informed on their progress down the King's Road, unfortunately though the 'Spider' had failed, he had claimed he had no knowledge of where they could be, which only made Jon worry more. Both about whether they would actually come, and if they did, how they managed to avoid Varys's little birds.

Turning away from the window he instead began walking down the corridor of the Red Keep. A thoughtful expression on his face as he did so, there was something going on in King's Landing. The Lannisters had been becoming more and more powerful, with many of them beginning to take positions at court. He had been hard pressed to stop Tywin Lannister, the Lord of the House from placing his brother Kevan Lannister on the Small Council a few years ago. He had instead managed to get a man he trusted into the Master of Coin position, Petyr Baelish. Though his trust in the man had begun to deteriorate as the kingdoms wealth did, it seemed in Jon's mind that Baelish to had been corrupted by King's Landing, not that he had any proof though.

Yes, the Lannisters were gaining more and more powerful, their influence spreading through court, no matter how much he tried to stymie them. The rest of the Small Council had not been helpful in stopping them either. Pycelle was a coward, the man was too old and feeble, and he did not have the courage to stand against Tywin. Baelish had become corrupt, more interested in his own power and influence than in strengthening the kingdoms. Renly a good man, but was also quite useless, more often than not spending all his time in Highgarden with the Tyrells than doing his duty as Master of Law. He instead allowed lesser Lords and nobles who worked under him to uphold the law. Something they were able to do relatively well, however they did not have the will or the power to oppose the Lannisters either. Jon knew in his heart something was coming, he could taste it n the air, something bad was going to happen, whether it be in a month or in a year he knew it was coming.

Stannis though had been a good ally; he too had seen the subtle changes in the court. The way the Lannisters started to win more and more favour. Already taxes in the Westerlands had been reduced, even as they had been raised in the Riverlands and Crownlands. Unfortunately though Stannis's position of Master of Ships, it did not give him the influence necessary to be of any real aid to Jon.

Jon was soon brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice, sounding down the corridor from behind him.

"Ah, Lord Hand. There you are." A familiar and slight arrogant voice spoke up.

Jon paused mid-step as he heard that before he turned to see who the speaker was, it a Lannister, or to be more precise it was the Imp, Tyrion Lannister the second son of Tywin Lannister and a lecher. The man was a grotesque, a dwarf, but despite his physical disabilities he had a sharp mind and an even sharper wit. He was a cynical, sarcastic and arrogant little man, but even so Jon found him much more agreeable than his siblings or father. Tywin Lannister was a cold and cruel man, who cared nothing for honour or decency as long as he and his House prospered. Jamie Lannister, was an oathbreaker, a man who was one step down from a kinslayer. He too had the Lannister arrogance, but unlike his brother and father he did not have the intelligence to back it up, instead he had his martial skills. The man was talented with a blade, Jon would give him that, and currently he was serving in King Robert's Kingsguard

Holding in a grimace, Jon Arryn turned to face the squat Lord. "Lord Tyrion. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Tyrion merely shrugged in response, "I have unfortunately been dragged here against my will to attend the young Prince Joffrey's nameday tournament. Fortunately though it seems like there will be more interesting things going on than just watching my brother win yet another tournament."

"You're talking about the visit from the newly named House Albion?" Jon surmised, not surprised that the little man had found out about their visit. He was sure most of King's Landing knew that there was a newly formed Great House visiting, even if it was one from the Iron Islands. It was no coincidence after all that so many Lords and Ladies had come to the capital, more than who would usually come for a tournament. It was because the House of Albion was coming, this mysterious newly formed House that had suddenly begun trading high quality items to the other kingdoms. Sending a literal shockwave through Westeros's economy in a mere few weeks, their trade ships seemed everywhere, the prices for their produce undercut even the Reach's own. Yes it was no coincidence so many had gathered, what with the Lord of the newly formed House arriving in King's Landing to swear his oath of fealty to the King.

"Of course, why, who else did you think I was talking about?" Tyrion queried. "So when do our mysterious friends arrive."

Jon looked down on Tyrion at that, thinking as he did so about how much he should tell the dwarf. After all he was a Lannister, and if there was one thing Jon had learned during his time as Hand of the King, it was never trust a Lannister. "They should be here soon, the Prince's tournament starts in two days, and they are to swear their fealty on that day."

"Oh well how exciting, I do hope they come soon. I want to meet this Lord Harold?" Tyrion replied with an idle shrug, as he saw Jon begin to continue his way down the corridor. Letting out a slight sigh the dwarf followed, waddling after the taller and elder man as he did so.

"So is it you have such an interest in the Iron Islanders or is it your father?" Jon asked once more. Somewhat skeptical about Tyrion's presence, after all the fact the Queen hated her younger brother was no secret. Neither was the fact that Robert didn't care for him and Tywin resented him.

"Can't it be both? I mean they are interesting, and interesting people do tend to gather interest." Tyrion mused as he continued to follow, not at all bothered by Jon suspicion. It was something he was used to.

"So what does the old lion want from them?" Jon asked bluntly. He knew better than to try and subtle gather knowledge from the little lord, he was too sharp to let anything slip, far sharper than both of his siblings.

"What else." Tyrion said, a slightly bitter smile coming to his face. "He wants to strengthen the House of Lannister, and the sudden and surprising in flux of trade and wealth from the Islands has caught his attention."

"More like he has noticed that Lannisport's income has fallen." Jon commented, once agan not bothering to speak in half truths to the imp.

"Well there is of course that to." Tyrion smirked, slightly amused as he thought back to the irritation Tywin showed when he heard that the Iron Born were taking money from his pocket, and that it was completely legal. After all just because they were selling their wares slightly cheaper than the traders of the Westerlands was not a crime.

"So will Lord Tywin be coming to King's Landing for his grandson's nameday?" Jon asked as he continued on through the corridors of the Red Keep.

"Why of course, what doting grandfather would not one to be with his family on such an important occasion?" Tyrion responded.

Before anymore could be said though they were distracted by a hurriedly approaching servant. The servant was looking quite sweaty as he ran through the stone corridors, the bright sunshine bouncing off the stone and making even the light and airy corridors of the Red Keep uncomfortably warm.

"Lord Hand!" The servant gasped as he came to a stop in front of Jon, the sweat trickling down his face even as he kept himself from hunching over and panting. "Lord Varys sent me. The delegation from the House of Albion has just arrived in King's Landing; they are on their way to the Red Keep now."

"Why am I only hearing of this now!?" Jon snapped, completely taken by surprise by the news. He was used to knowing about such things several days in advance. Their spy network was spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, the Iron Islanders should not have been able to arrive without him having known about it days in advance.

"Arriving already?" Tyrion asked, quite surprised himself that they had arrived so suddenly and without warning.

"Dammit!" Jon cursed as he started striding down the corridor faster, his conversation with the dwarf forgotten as he quickly outpaced the smaller man, not even looking back as he instead had attention on the servant who was hurrying along behind him. "I need you to gather the Small Council and try and get the King as well. We will initially meet them in the Small Council chamber. Send out some gold cloaks and a couple of Kingsguard to escort them in, make sure to take them on a slight detour, to give us more time."

The sweating servant nodded his head at every demand, though he did show some confusion about being told to take the Iron Island delegation on a detour through the Red Keep.

"Save informing Baelish and Varys until last, knowing those two they probably already know they are in King's Landing." Jon continued as he increased his pace, hoping to get to the Small Council chambers before the others. "Also tell the kitchens to provide some refreshments for our guests; hopefully they are done in time."

The servant, catching his breath replied, "Yes Lord Hand."

With that the servant sped off in the other direction.

"Mind if I come along?" The unexpected question came from a gasping and wheezing Tyrion. The dwarf having seemingly caught up with Jon, despite the fact he was sweat profusely, and looked like he was about to pass out.

"You can come to the initial meeting as a representative from your father." Jon said, calmly, not bothered if the dwarf came or not, after all he this was just a first meeting and nothing else.

"Very well then." Tyrion nodded, as he continued to follow Jon, the elder man having slowed down slightly to allow the dwarf to catch up.

Jon Arryn ignored the comment, his mind instead focused on gathering the members of the Small Council and the King for this upcoming meeting with the mysterious Lord Harold.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry in King's Landing)**

"Blimey what the fuck is that smell!?" Seamus shouted out, his voice muffled by his had covering his nose. They were walking through King's Landing proper now, and were very much feeling the heat of the sun bouncing off the stone walls and roads. Things weren't helped however by the putrid smell of piss and shit, which was only made worse by the heat of the day.

Harry, Tracey, Dean, Neville and Blaise all ignored this outburst as they continued on down the street, unbothered by either the heat of the day or by the stench.

"How, the hell is this not bothering you?!" Seamus complained once again, as he saw the lack of reaction from his companions.

Rolling her eyes, Tracey slowed down so she was next to Seamus her eyes looking around her furtively as she muttered to the man. "Have you forgotten Seamus… you're a wizard…"

Seamus looked confused for a moment at this, as he looked back at Tracey, before a look of understanding crossed his face. Reaching for the wand, unnoticeably sheathed in his armoured gauntlet. He found himself stopped by a tanned and scarred hand landing on his shoulder. Looking up he found himself staring into the cold steel mask that covered most of Blaise's face.

"We are also in the middle of the capital, surrounded by most likely dozens of spies." Blaise growled to Seamus. "Think for a moment."

"But the smell!" Seamus complained once again, ignoring the frowns his words got from some of the locals they passed on the street.

"You should have thought about that before we arrived." Blaise growled in response as he continued down the hot street, his eyes flickering left and right as he searched for any potential threat. He like the majority of his party was unbothered by the heat and stench of the city, liberal use of 'cooling' charms protected him from the heat, and a very small localized bubblehead charm in his nose protected him from the smell.

"Oi Harry, what's the matter you seem a bit dazed?" Tracey asked slightly concerned as she looked over at their defacto leader. Who was walking at the head of the small group, just in front of Blaise, a slight glazed expression as he listlessly walked through the streets.

"Hmm?" Harry hummed as he looked over at Tracey, a befuddled look on his face.

"You need to get your head in the game! I know Daphne is not here but we are in a dangerous place, and you need to be focused." Tracey continued a frown now on her face.

"Hmm yeah." Harry muttered, as he shook his head slightly, his eyes becoming a bit sharper. "Sorry, just had… a lot on my mind."

"Ok, but think about it later. For now you are going to need your full attention for what's ahead!" Tracey replied, as she nodded her head forward. Her eyes fixed on large door of the Red Keep up ahead, and on the golden armoured warriors who seemed to be waiting for them.

When they got to their waiting escort they were quickly able to work out who they were. Two of the waiting men were Kingsguard. With one being an older man with white hair, but who still looked quite capable and deadly, the older man had the look of a veteran fighter about him. The other man was younger, maybe a few years older than Harry. He was a blonde, handsome man, who wore flawless gold armour, and held himself with a certain arrogance. Overall for the King's elite guard Harry was impressed, more by the older man than by the younger man, but either way they both held the bearing of fighters. Around the two men were several more figure wearing gold cloaks and painted golden mail. It did not take a genius to work out that these must be the gold cloaks, King's Landing's city watch.

"Lord Harold Albion of House Albion?" The older man questioned as Harry led his group over to the waiting men. "I am Ser Barriston Selmy, Captain of King Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard. Beside me is Jaime Lannister, also of the Kingsguard. We and the Citywatch here shall be your escort through the Red Keep. We had been hoping to meet you upon your entrance into King's Landing, your sudden arrival though was… unexpected."

Harry cocked his eyebrow at that, before a flicker of realization cross his face. He should have realised, there were apparently multiple spy networks in Westeros. The fact that they were able to travel from Winterfell to King's Landing undetected was bound to draw some attention. Withholding a grimace he decided to respond, after all silence on the matter would only making it more suspicious. "Yes well Ser Barriston I like to keep things interesting, after all we are a small group and the Iron Born have not made many friends over the years. Are you really surprised we decided to travel quietly?"

"Well I suppose I can see you reasons." Barriston replied with a shrug. He could understand their caution; it was not that long ago that the Iron Born were rebelling against the kingdom, their fleets raiding the coasts of Westeros.

"But anyway as you said, we are here now, just in time for the Crown Princes nameday celebrations." Harry said in a cheery voice.

"Indeed, though I am curious Lord Harold. Will you be taking part in the tournament?" Jamie asked as he made eye contact with the mysterious Lord of the Iron Islands.

"Who knows, depends how I feel on the day!" Harry replied, easily sidestepping the question as he started making his way into the Red Keep. "But anyway, the day is hot and we are tired!"

"Yes of course Lord Harold, please follow us in!" Barriston said taking the lead as he led Harry's group into the Keep. "The Small Council has assembled in their chambers, and would like for you to meet with them."

"Of course!" Harry replied in a friendly manner before he turned to look at his companions. "Tracey, Neville you two come with me. Blaise, Seamus, Dean you three go and find us lodgings in King's Landing, after all we don't know how long we will be here."

Blaise nodded at that, before he turned around and led the other two away. Already knowing what Harry would want, a defensive fallback position that they could retreat to if things went wrong, he would need to set up some protections for it when he found the right place. Seamus and Dean followed him, though not without a bit of complaint as they saw a number of pretty southern ladies walking through the Red Keep's gardens.

Turning away from his departing companions and instead facing Barriston and Jamie again, he gave the two a friendly smile as he gestured for them to lead the way.

Seeing his gesture the two Kingsguard members nodded in assent before they once again turned and led Harry, Neville and Tracey further into the Keep. The goldcloaks fell in line behind Harry's group, giving off the impression that they were under armed escort. Narrow his eyes, Harry's eyes flickered from goldcloak to goldcloak, taking not of their slack postures, and their postures. These were not true fighters, they could act the part but they did not look they were instantly ready for a fight, not like the two Kingsguard. Overall Harry found the King's Landing Citywatch, quite unimpressive.

Looking around the Red Keep as they made their way to the Small Council chamber, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the aesthetic quality of the building, it was beautiful, far more pleasant than Winterfell or the Pyke, but then again they were built primarily for defense while this was built to both be strong, but also to be admired. The Keep was colossal in size, filled with grand decorations and wealth; it was a distinct contrast to other parts of the city. It seemed there was a massive divide between the wealthy and the poor in this city, far more than in any other part of Westeros he had been so far. It was something that made a liberal and cultured person like Harry, distinctly uncomfortable.

Harry was soon drawn from his thoughts by the voice of the famous Jamie Lannister. The blonde haired man looked over his shoulder so he could look at Harry when he spoke, his green eyes flickering over Harry's armour and weapons with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. "We can wait if you would like to change into something more… fitting."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that before replying somewhat curtly."Be at ease… Ser Jimmy was it? I am comfortable enough how I am."

"It's Ser Jamie actually." Jamie replied his eyes narrowing as he shot Harry a frown. "I have to say that is an unusual sword you carry; it looks very much like a Braavosi blade?"

Looking down at his sheathed rapier, Harry shrugged in response, "I am a well traveled man Ser Jamie, and have always had a habit of picking up souvenirs and trophies."

"Indeed." Jamie responded, not noticing that Harry dodged the question completely.

Tracey however smirked slightly; he had not done to badly so far. He had put him off guard by apparently not recognizing him. He had shrugged off Jamie's attempts at baiting him and had dodged the question about his sword, and instead told him a half truth that he was a traveler, which would make the fact that he had seemingly come out of nowhere more palatable to the more suspicious minds. Whether this was planned or not she didn't know, but with Harry you could never tell. He was an unpredictable man, which made him a great leader but a terrible adversary.

"So tell me Lord Harold, you were born into a cadet branch of House Drumm were you not?" Jamie once again spoke up.

"I was yes" Harry replied with a shrug, not surprised that what he had mentioned to Lord Stark as his back story had already filtered down south.

"Well I was wondering how is it you went from… there… to being Lord of the Iron Islands." Jamie asked his lip lifting slightly in a sneer as he spoke of Harry coming from the cadet branch of a minor house.

"Why through hard work and the support of a number of good comrades." Harry said with a shrug.

Before anything else could be said, the previously silent Barriston spoke up, cutting off Jamie from asking anymore inane questions. "If you will Lord Albion, the King and the Small Council should be waiting for you inside." As he said this he gestured to a beautifully carved wooden door that they were now standing in front of.

"Some goldcloaks will wait for you out here so that they can safely escort you back to your accommodations." Finished Selmy as he watched two of the goldcloaks with them walk up to the large doors and open them up for Harry and his group.

Harry nodded absentmindedly as he took a step forward, flanked by Tracey and Neville. This was going to be the most dangerous part of their venture yet, he only wished he had Daphne with him, she was far better at politic s that him, and although cunning Tracey lacked the subtly and finesse that Daphne had.

 **( - )**

 **(On the Iron Islands)**

Daphne looked out of one of the large windows set into the walls of Pyke, a frown on her beautiful face as she looked out to sea, looking in the direction in which she knew King's Landing lay. Harry and the others had left only that morning, but even so she was feeling unsettled, she should have been with them, she knew she should. But she also knew that to do so would be dangerous, she had to think about more than just herself after all, she had to think about her and Harry's unborn baby as well.

"You are worried about them are you not?" Came a soft and melodious voice from her right.

Turning to look at the source of the voice she found herself looking into soft, sky blue eyes of Fleur Delacour. A woman who was so similar to Daphne and yet at the same time so different. It was just their physical appearances that were similar, with both of them being tall, statuesque blondes with blue eyes, it was also their personalities that were both very similar and also very different. In some ways they were like fire and ice, Daphne possessed a cold, ruthless logic, with which she made many of her decisions. Fleur however was filled with passion and fire, and allowed her emotions to rule her. But despite these differences their goals were the same, they both wanted the best for those they cherished, they both loved their little sisters, the both of them were talented witches who gave their all for the good of their fellow magical. They also both happened to love the same man…

"Of course I am worried, they are in a battlefield. But unlike a normal one, this is a battle of words, lies and manipulation. Which worries me far more than if it were an actual battlefield, at least there you would know who your enemies are?" Daphne said softly, turning to look back out the window as she did so.

"Zey will be fine, zey can look after themselves, and if zey do get into any trouble, Blaise and 'Arry are with them. The two of zem are more than capable." Fleur replied, confidently. "Besides, you should not worry so much, it will be bad for zee baby."

"I know." Daphne replied, as she rolled her eyes. "But I am not going to let the fact I am pregnant get in the way of my plans."

"What do you mean?" Fleur said suspiciously.

"Whilst Harry and the others are in King's Landing, I will go to Highgarden and begin making more permanent economic, social and military ties with the major powers in Westeros." Daphne replied a smile making its way across her face. "And I will be taking you, Terry Boot, Padma Patil and a twenty of those newly improved golems with us. We have to make an impact after all. I would also like Hannah and Michael Corner, but those two will be going to Winterfell to setup an embassy."

"It could be dangerous though?" Fleur said her eyes widening as she heard Daphne's plan.

"Now who is worrying too much?" Daphne said, imitating Fleur as she did so, before she gave the beautiful blonde a smile to show she was joking. "We will be safe; Highgarden will have a vested interest in making an alliance with us from an economic perspective. The Tyrell's also have a reputation for being one of the more logical Houses in Westeros, I doubt very much that this 'Queen of Thorns' will want to make an enemy out of a rising power like the House of Albion."

"But the Lord, this Mace Tyrell, he is a fool." Fleur said, going off what she had heard from their information gathering around Westeros.

"Yes he is and if he does make the mistake of crossing us, don't forget we will have four trained and battle hardened mages and twenty golems." Daphne said a slight smirk. "But I very much doubt we will be in any danger, Highgarden is after all practically ruled by Olenna Tyrell, and she is no fool."

"Very well will come, but I am not 'appy about it." Fleur said a slight frown marring her beautiful face. "Zough I will ask around and get some more wizards and witches to come with us. To make an impression oui!"

Daphne rolled her eyes at that, an amused smile spreading across her face. "If that will make you feel better."

"It will." Fleur sniffed as she looked away from Daphne, her own soft lips, twitching slightly as she tried not to smile. "Zough I would like something in return for going along with this plan of yours."

"I am not giving you Harry." Daphne said a smile now prominent on her face. "At least not at the moment…"

"'as anyone ever told you, you are a bit of a tease!" Fleur chuckled throatily, as she put her arm around Daphne, glad to see that she was not as worried as she was before. The two of them had grown closer in the last few weeks ever since Daphne confided in Fleur about her pregnancy.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry in King's Landing)**

"So this is Robert Baratheon, the King of Westeros?" Harry muttered to Tracey and Neville as they enter the Small Council chamber. His voice was tinged with disbelief as he looked upon the fat King who at that moment was crammed uncomfortably into one of the wooden chairs that surrounded the rectangular Small Council table. The man did not look like the hero Harry had been told he was he had heard that he had let himself go slightly but this. Though looking back on it almost two decades of excessive drinking and eating would take its toll on a man.

"King Robert!" Harry said loudly as he approached the King and his councilors', giving a slight bow to the king as he did so. Neville and Tracey copying him, he had heard that the King was a blunt man who had no time or patience for politics. This was why he had decided to go for a straight forward approach when dealing with him.

Robert blinked slightly as he heard Harry's greeting. He had been expecting to go through the standard formalities of the both of them being announced, before they could greet each other, which would then be followed by false flattery and lots of flowery words. But instead this Harry Albion ignored all protocol and just greeted him like he would another Lord, though one higher in status than himself.

"Harry Albion!" Robert replied in amusement, letting out a bark of laughter as he saw the surprised look on the faces of his Councilors'. "Blunt and to the point, I think I am going to like you."

"Well I hope so your majesty!" Harry said with a winning smile now on his face, his eyes flickering around the rest of the room, taking in their reactions. Some of them he was able to recognise from the description he had been given. The bald one, Varys looked distinctly amused by his entrance; the older one Jon Arryn also looked pleasantly surprised. The oldest man, the one with the wispy white beard, who must be Pycelle, looked very disapproving as he muttered sourly under his breath. The other three men, Stannis, Renly and Baelish, all whom he couldn't tell apart looked a mixture of surprised and uncertain.

There were also two others in the room who he knew weren't in the Small Council, but who he also was able to recognise from their description. The first was a beautiful blonde woman with green eyes, who he was able to guess was the Queen Cersei Lannister, she looked outraged, a sneer already forming on her face. The other was a small deformed man, who looked more like a Goblin than he did a man, he, Harry could only assume was Tyrion Lannister, otherwise known as 'the Imp' and he looked very amused.

"So Albion, I heard you are a squid!" Robert barked as he shifted himself in his chair. "Though I have to admit I have never heard of you before!"

Harry shrugged at that, even as he walked forward and took the only empty seat at the table, the one at the very end opposite the King. "I would be surprised if you had heard of me your Majesty, I was but a boy during the Greyjoy's foolish and treacherous rebellion and after that I was a traveler."

"A traveler eh! Always wanted to do that myself when I was a lad! Far too old for it now though." Robert chuckled as he grabbed a cup of wine in his pudgy hand and took a big gulp, a stray trickle of the red liquid running down his chin and soaking into his beard.

"You still look fit and healthy to me your Majesty could still probably crush a few skulls I wager!" Harry replied with a crooked grin, appealing got Robert's well known pride as a fighter.

"You got that right!" The King shouted, with another bark of laughter.

Before the two could continue their bantering, they were interrupted by Jon Arryn.

"Robert, we should probably…" Jon said as he looked over at his former ward.

"Yes yes introductions and all that!" Robert waved him away "We all know who he is, Lord Harry Albion, the Lord of the Iron Islands! We only need you lot to introduce yourselves!" Robert continued impatiently waving at his Councilors' to do his bidding.

Without any need for prompting one of the unfamiliar dark haired men started off the introductions as he met Harry's eyes, a friendly smile on his face. One that Harry could instantly see was false; he didn't even need to send out a subtle legilimency probe to know this man was a snake. Harry's sharp eyes could see the cold, calculating look in his eyes and how easily he could put up a mask of friendliness. For Harry it was easy, he was a duelist with both magic and blade, he had trained himself to be able to read people like a book. It was why he was so deadly, by reading the person he was able to predict their moves, and the counter before they could actually strike.

"Welcome to King's Landing Lord Albion, I am Petyr Baelish the King's Master of Coin." The snake like man said, a very friendly and yet very false smile on his face. "If you ever have need of assistance, I would be more than willing to help."

"It's a pleasure I am sure." Harry greeted cordially before he turned to the next man to speak, the oldest one who he already had recognised as Pycelle. The old man wheezing out an introduction, putting on the guise of a feeble old man as he did so, though for Harry like with Baelish he could see through his deception. This was the way it went with the rest of the introductions as Varys, Stannis, Renly and Jon Arryn all introduced themselves, with Jon and Stannis being the only ones who were entirely genuine in their greetings. With Stannis blatantly showing his distrust for Harry when he introduced himself, whilst Jon Arryn was surprisingly open and friendly when greeting Harry.

Once the introductions were over Harry turned back to the bored looking King, who was ignoring the rest of the room in favour of eyeing up Tracey and drinking more wine.

"And you must be Queen Cersei." Harry said turning to the scowling Queen, a charming smile on his face as he gave a slight bow in her direction.

Not that it effected Cersei as her eyes flickered over Harry's shoulder to her twin brother Jamie, before darting back to Harry, her lips already curling up in slight disgust. Of all the people in the room, the Queen was by far the easiest to read.

"Lord Harold a pleasure to meet you." Cersei bit out.

"Please my Queen just Harry is fine!" Harry replied, his reddish green eyes twinkling as he looked at the scowling blonde.

"Good so we are all introduced! Can we get on with this, I need a piss!" The King interrupted as he took his eyes of Tracey and instead looked around the room.

"Of course this is just a meeting to welcome Lord… Harry to King's Landing and acknowledge the House Albion and their claim over the Iron Islands." Jon said as he sat up straighter happy to finally be getting down to business.

"I thought that we would be using this meeting to debate whether or not to allow the House of Albion to keep the Iron Islands or whether we would be handing them over to an old and more trustworthy House." Cersei interrupted the malicious look in her eyes as she looked at Harry telling him which way she would go if her opinion was asked for.

"What to the Lannister!?" Stannis said bluntly, ignoring the scathing look the Queen sent him. "I will be damned before I see that!"

Before things could escalate further Jon spoke up again, "The decision to make House Albion the Lords of the Iron Islands is merely a formality, but one that must be followed. By the ancient laws of the Seven Kingdoms the Iron Islands retain the right to choose their own leader, but that leader must swear fealty to the King."

Cersei glared at that, and Stannis scowled, but it wasn't at Harry, instead it was at Renly as if he was blaming his younger brother the Master of Law for not informing him of this fact.

"Robert is the King, and so he can change the rules if he so wishes." Cersei sneered as she turned to Robert, no doubt hoping to convince him to hand the suddenly affluent and influential Iron Islands over to a Lannister, her Uncle Kevan perhaps.

"Unfortunately he cannot as to do so would go against their very laws that bind the Seven Kingdoms together." Jon paused here not needing to express what such a thing would lead to, after all if one ancient law was broken why not another and another until the Seven Kingdoms dissolved.

"He's right." Robert grunted, having had this conversation with Jon years ago when he wanted to strip the Greyjoy's of their control over the Iron Islands. "And so in the name of Robert first of his name, King of the Andals and the first Men, Protector of the Realm and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I recognise Lord Harry and the House of Albion as the rightful rulers of the Iron Islands."

Harry mentally sighed with relief at how easy that had been; he had been prepared to fight tooth and nail, before resorting to magic. Only for the King to pretty much recognise Harry's claim to the Iron Island's instantly.

"Right then, now that's done I am going for a piss!" Robert grunted as he lumbered to his feet. The rest of the people in the room getting to their feet as the King stood, though more than one shot Robert looks of hidden disgust.

Making his way to the door, his Kingsguard now following him Robert took a moment to look back at Harry. "I expect to see you fighting in the tournament Albion! The Seven knows the competition has got a bit stale! Then after that we can sort out your oath of fealty!"

"As you say your Majesty." Harry said with a short bow, hiding his grimace as he did so. He had been hoping to sit out the tournament and instead put his time into doing more useful things like making alliances. Gods know Daphne would not be happy if he came away from King's Landing without having at least had some success.

As soon as the King left the other members of the Small Council made their move to. Some like Renly and Stannis left straight away. Others like Pycelle joined the Queen as she herself stormed out of the room. The other members though, Baelish, Jon Arryn and Varys all moved in Harry's direction. Though Varys upon seeing the others moving, soon left the room , but not before giving Harry a bland searching look.

This left both Baelish and Jon both of whom approached Harry as he stood in the room, Tracey and Neville still flanking him. The two of them having remained silent for no, though he doubted that would continue, as both of them were looking at him as if they wanted to say something. Harry knew that they would wait however until they were in a more secure place, in the temporary base Blaise was no doubt setting up now.

"Lord Albion." Baelish began as he walked up to Harry, that fake smile once again spread across his face. "I thought I would once again welcome you to King's Landing, and also offer you a gift. A night for free at one of my brothels, after all what better way to give you a real welcome to King's Landing." As he said that he once again smiled at Harry, as if to give the impression the two of them were sharing a joke.

"You have my thanks Lord Baelish; I will definitely pay you a visit in one of your establishments." Harry responded neutrally.

"Then I will stand by in readiness for your arrival. After all we men from lowly Houses, those who have had to fight our way to prominence, we need to stick together." Baelish replied all charm as he attempted to create a connection with Harry.

"Indeed you are right Lord Baelish, I am new to King's Landing and will certainly need a bit of guidance making my way here." Harry responded, a friendly smile on his own face, though inside he was less than pleased.

"Then I will await your visit." Petyr said giving Harry a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving, giving a slight bow to on Arryn as he left the room. "Lord Hand."

"You should be careful around a man like Baelish Lord Albion." Jon said solemnly as he finally got Harry alone, though h could see out of the corner of his eye that 'the Imp' was waiting in the corridor, no doubt planning to engage Harry in conversation himself.

"Oh I am more than aware," Harry replied as he turned to face Jon Arryn. "Call me Harry by the way."

"Then you may call me Jon." Was the Hand of the King's response. "If you have a minute Harry, there is something I would like to say."

"Of course Jon" Harry said, remembering as he did so that Ned had said Harry could trust the man, not that he was going to take that at face value.

"You have come to a dangerous place Harry and I hope that you are someone upon whom I can come to rely." Jon continued on, looking around him as he did so. "I do not yet know you but I hope to do so soon. Things are moving fast in the kingdom and soon I believe it will need the help of men such as you."

Harry blinked at that, it was not something he had expected from a first conversation with the Hand of the King; it was very intense and serious, but more than that the man sounded slightly desperate.

"I will not say more now, but what I will say is that I hope we get to know each other, and that we can come to fully rust each other." Jon said nodding his head as he once again looked around him as if he thought someone might be spying on him. "Be careful when in King's Landing Harry, the walls have ears. Don't trust anyone, at least not until you know without a doubt you can. The power in King's Landing is shifting and I foresee difficult times ahead."

With that said the older man suddenly seemed to calm down as a confident look crossed his face and he turned to walk away from Harry. "It was a pleasure speaking to you Lord Harry, and if you ever need any help, my door is always open."

With that said the Hand of the King strode confidently out of the room, leaving behind three very confused looking magical.

"What the hell was that about?" Neville muttered as he turned to look at Harry and Tracey.

"I am not sure, he sounded scared, and the way he was acting, it looked like he thought someone was spying on him." Harry said as he looked over in the direction the Hand of the King had disappeared.

"I am not sure, but from what he said it makes it sound like something dangerous is at work in King's Landing." Tracey replied.

"Well that is what we knew." Was Harry's response as he rolled his eyes at Tracey "Still though we should definitely be careful, once the tournament is over and the oath is done we can think about it more."

"True, though it looks as if someone wants to speak to you." Tracey replied ashes nodded her head in the direction of the patiently waiting Tyrion.

 **( - )**

 **AN: So I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. As I like parts of it but am to really sure about the end. I think I will have fun writing the meeting between Olenna Tyrell + Margery and Daphne + Fleur. I can already think of some funny and interesting things that can go down.**

 **Also Harry will be dealing with politics and will be dealing with some of the members of the Small Council. He and his companions will also be getting involved in the tournament, I have a pretty cool idea which plays off something from the series.**

 **So anyway yeah I hope you liked the chapter and please drop a comment. Review, review, review etc.**

 **So yeah see you all next time.**

 **Seagate.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Hello all, it is me again with another chapter. There are a few things happening in this one. So read carefully so you don't miss things. And as always drop a comment etc.**

 **So yeah I hope you all enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, or A song of Ice and Fire.**

 **( - )**

 ** _(Last time)_**

" _Lord Albion." Baelish began as he walked up to Harry, that fake smile once again spread across his face. "I thought I would once again welcome you to King's Landing, and also offer you a gift. A night for free at one of my brothels, after all what better way to give you a real welcome to King's Landing. " As he said that he once again smiled at Harry, as if to give the impression the two of them were sharing a joke._

" _You have my thanks Lord Baelish; I will definitely pay you a visit in one of your establishments." Harry responded neutrally._

" _Then I will stand by in readiness for your arrival. After all we men from lowly Houses, those who have had to fight our way to prominence, we need to stick together." Baelish replied all charm as he attempted to create a connection with Harry._

" _Indeed you are right Lord Baelish; I am new to King's Landing and will certainly need a bit of guidance making my way here." Harry responded, a friendly smile on his own face, though inside he was less than pleased._

" _Then I will await your visit." Petyr said giving Harry a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving, giving a slight bow to on Arryn as he left the room. "Lord Hand."_

" _You should be careful around a man like Baelish Lord Albion." Jon said solemnly as he finally got Harry alone, though h could see out of the corner of his eye that 'the Imp' was waiting in the corridor, no doubt planning to engage Harry in conversation himself._

" _Oh I am more than aware," Harry replied as he turned to face Jon Arryn. "Call me Harry by the way."_

" _Then you may call me Jon." Was the Hand of the King's response. "If you have a minute Harry, there is something I would like to say."_

" _Of course Jon" Harry said, remembering as he did so that Ned had said Harry could trust the man, not that he was going to take that at face value._

" _You have come to a dangerous place Harry and I hope that you are someone upon whom I can come to rely." Jon continued on, looking around him as he did so. "I do not yet know you but I hope to do so soon. Things are moving fast in the kingdom and soon I believe it will need the help of men such as you."_

 _Harry blinked at that, it was not something he had expected from a first conversation with the Hand of the King; it was very intense and serious, but more than that the man sounded slightly desperate._

" _I will not say more now, but what I will say is that I hope we get to know each other, and that we can come to fully rust each other." Jon said nodding his head as he once again looked around him as if he thought someone might be spying on him. "Be careful when in King's Landing Harry, the walls have ears. Don't trust anyone, at least not until you know without a doubt you can. The power in King's Landing is shifting and I foresee difficult times ahead."_

 _With that said the older man suddenly seemed to calm down as a confident look crossed his face and he turned to walk away from Harry. "It was a pleasure speaking to you Lord Harry, and if you ever need any help, my door is always open."_

 _With that said the Hand of the King strode confidently out of the room, leaving behind three very confused looking magical._

" _What the hell was that about?" Neville muttered as he turned to look at Harry and Tracey._

" _I am not sure, he sounded scared, and the way he was acting, it looked like he thought someone was spying on him." Harry said as he looked over in the direction the Hand of the King had disappeared._

" _I am not sure, but from what he said it makes it sound like something dangerous is at work in King's Landing." Tracey replied._

" _Well that is what we knew." Was Harry's response as he rolled his eyes at Tracey "Still though we should definitely be careful, once the tournament is over and the oath is done we can think about it more?"_

" _True, though it looks as if someone wants to speak to you." Tracey replied ashes nodded her head in the direction of the patiently waiting Tyrion._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 12**

 **( - )**

 **(In King's Landing)**

Leaving the room Harry soon found himself confronted by a short, grotesque looking man. This Harry knew was Tyrion Lannister, the famous 'Imp' of House Lannister. He was a short man, just under four foot; he had small beady eyes and a slightly twisted face. Looking at him in closer detail, ignoring the fact he was a dwarf, Harry was able to a slight resemblance between the man and his older brother Jamie. Granted it was not close, more like this man represented a shorter, squatter, uglier version of Jamie Lannister. Though unlike Jamie who gave off an air of arrogance, this man instead had a cunning look about him. His dull green eyes twinkling with keen intellect as they looked at Harry expectantly, as he patiently waited for Harry to leave the Small Council chambers, seemingly unbothered by Tracey and Neville who flanked Harry.

"I trust your first meeting with the King and his Small Council was… illuminating?" Tyrion asked as he looked up at Harry.

"Brief but pleasant." Harry replied as he came to a stop in front of the little Lord. Looking to Neville and Tracey he gestured for them to go on, "Can you go and find Blaise? We are going to strategise now it appears we are going to be more heavily involved in this upcoming tournament then we first thought?"

Neville nodded as he walked away, the large man happy to get away, he was not one for long conversations, instead preferring to spend time with his plants, or training, or more recently with Yara. Tracey also nodded her head and made to follow Neville, before she left though she fixed Harry with a look. "Do try and be careful Harry."

"I will catch up with you later." Harry replied absentmindedly, as he kept an eye on the little Lord who seemed to be watching their interaction with interest. With a roll of her eyes Tracey left, following the armoured figure of Neville as she did so.

"You seem to have quite a report with your companions." Tyrion commented as he looked over at Tracey's retreating form.

"They are friends and comrades, all of whom I would trust with my life." Harry said with a shrug.

"Trust will get you killed in a place like King's Landing." Tyrion replied as he turned back to Harry.

"Misplaced trust certainly will, but I have always been a good judge of character." Harry responded with a slight smile.

"Indeed." Was the dwarf's calm response as he looked curiously up at Harry "Tell me then Lord Albion, do you know why your arrival has caused such a stir in King's Landing?"

"No doubt because of the sudden creation of House Albion and the affluence we are currently showing." Harry responded curiously, his eyes fixed on the 'Imp' as he tried to get the measure of the man.

"True… those are some of the reasons. Yet a number of other Houses in the Seven Kingdoms are still much wealthier than yours. And the sudden creation of your House is a surprise, but then again despite what people are currently saying, you are not one of the true Great Houses. No that honor belongs to House Stark, House Tully, House Arryn, House Baratheon, House Martel, House Tyrell and of course House Lannister. The newly formed House of Albion despite your sudden wealth, and the size of your archipelago, you are still a relatively average House." Tyrion responded, uncaring of any insults his words may have caused. "And yet Lord's from all over the Seven Kingdoms have come to King's Landing to meet you, and the King himself stopped drinking and whoring for a moment to meet you. I wonder if you know why that is."

Harry blinked at that, somewhat taken a back by the man's words. Had he may be missed something, were they truly so unimportant in contrast to the other Houses. Harry had been under the impression he would be coming to King's Landing from the position of strength, his House was new, wealthy and relatively unknown. Clamping down his Occulmency shield, Harry suppressed any surprise from showing, instead he thought about the question. "It is because we are an unknown factor."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow at that, a slight smirk making its way across his face.

"The political game has not changed in years, no doubt the fall of House Greyjoy and the rise of House Albion is the most interesting thing to happen in years. This has made people curious; they are wondering whether we will become players in the great game?" Harry continued an appraising look in his eye as he looked at the squat man.

"Hmm, maybe you will survive." Tyrion replied the smirk still on his face. "Though there is slightly more to it than that."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Another reason is your own sudden rise. Lord Harold Albion, no one had ever heard of you before, though considering you were a member of the cadet branch of a very minor House like Drumm, which is not surprising. I know for a fact that Meister's records most of the time doesn't cover cadet branches of minor Houses. But yet from obscurity you suddenly appeared, wielding power and wealth. Again not yet on the same level as the Great Houses, but enough for people to take notice, and take notice they have." Tyrion replied, his eyes still fixed on Harry's, watching the taller man carefully for any signs of weakness or hesitation, he found none.

Harry though about that, Tyrion obviously did not know of their true reserves, he only knew of their recent wealth. But even so his analysis of the situation was interesting, he knew what he was talking about, but the question was why he was telling Harry.

"So tell me Lord Tyrion, what is your interest in us? You are a Lannister yes, but you hold no position either in your House or in the King's Landing." Harry asked, not caring if his words may seem insulting. It had not taken him long to work out that Tyrion although wealthy and intelligent, was also very cynical, sarcastic and just generally didn't seem to give a damn.

"Because I am bored and you are interesting. I mean the last interesting thing to happen in Westeros was eight years ago, and that was when the late Balon Greyjoy attempted to rebel against the crown. Can you really blame me for showing an interest?" Tyrion replied earnestly.

Harry didn't believe a word of it. No doubt he did come here because he thought they were interesting. But there was definitely more to it than that. Tyrion was either acting under orders from his father, or he was to for himself, looking to profit of Harry in some way.

"Of course not…" Harry replied his voice layered in sarcasm.

"Oh you're a quick learner, I like that." Tyrion replied a smile still on his face. "I look forward to seeing what you do while in King's Landing."

"I take it you have your own thoughts on why I have come?" Harry asked with a smirk of his own.

"Why to swear fealty of course, what else…" Tyrion replied as he turned away from Harry. "Well anyway Lord Albion, it was pleasant speaking with you. We must do so again, if of course you survive the upcoming tournament."

"You speak as if you expect something bad to happen to me?" Harry called back, slightly amused by Tyrion's cryptic words.

"This is King's Landing Lord Albion, whilst here you should really learn to expect the unexpected." Tyrion called over his shoulder as he ambled away.

"Indeed…" Harry muttered to himself, already well aware of the kind of place he had come to. Even so though his conversation with Tyrion had been illuminating if nothing else, it had certainly made him curious as to what game Jon Arryn was playing. After all his sudden friendliness with an unknown, could be seen as a subtle maneuver to try and get something from Harry. But that did not fit with what he have been told about the man or with what Harry had been able to tell from looking at him. He had seemed nervous, but also quite earnest. But why would he go out of his way to act so, if as Tyrion said, Harry and his House was no more than a passing curiosity to the people of the Seven Kingdoms.

 **( - )**

A few minutes later, Harry walked into the large stone house Blaise had acquired for their stay in King's Landing. It was in one of the wealthier parts of the city, but also in one of the older, its walls were thicker than the newer buildings and its windows smaller. It did not take Harry long to realise why he had chosen the place, it was because it was opulent enough to show their wealth, and yet was still easily defendable. As he arrived Harry could already feel the protective wards around the house. They were powerful enough to protect them from immediate attack, but would not last long in a prolonged siege.

This was in part due to the size of the rune stones used, they were small, barely a foot in diameter, much smaller that the massive eight foot ones that have been strategically placed around the Iron Islands. But then again the stones were expensive and time consuming to craft, and a portable one was more than adequate to do the job they needed. It was not like they needed a 'fidelius charm', as not only would that be tiring to cast, it would also rouse more suspicion if no one knew where they were staying. Still though on a temporary basis it was adequate. When they set up a proper 'embassy' in King's Landing they would do a much better job.

"So I take it you are all aware of what happened in our meeting?" Harry asked as he entered the dining chamber where his companions were now sitting. Most of them holding conjured goblets in hand; several bottles of Dornish Wine now open on the large wooden dining table. Conjuring his own goblet, Harry poured himself a glass, not even questioning the wines appearance. Seamus was with them, what more needed to be said.

"Yeah apparently they are not going to kick a fuss about us keeping the Iron Islands!" Dean said with a grin clinking goblets with a grinning Seamus before the both of them took a gulp of their wine. "Good thing to, as I am not sure about you, but I am tired of fighting, I just want a nice quiet few years in which we can just relax. You know drink, party, and live the good life!"

"I will drink to that!" Seamus cheered as he and Dean once again clinked goblets before downing their wine, only for Seamus to swiftly refill their goblets.

"So I take it you won't be taking part in the tournament?" Tracey asked as she looked over to the two celebrating men.

"Fuck no! I just want to watch, drink, gamble and then maybe find a pretty lady to go home with afterwards!" Seamus replied, waving away any thought of him getting dressed up in armour before prancing around play fighting.

"Well I am sure we can find you a pretty horse to go home with after the joust." Blaise grunted, getting several laughs from the people around him as he did so.

"Screw you." Seamus replied good-naturedly.

"Unfortunately I don't think Blaise is a lady, though if you swing that way all power to you." Neville spoke up with a grin, getting another round of laughter.

"Can we please talk about Blaise's gender confusion later? For now we need to focus on who is going to be involved in the tournament." Tracey interrupted, getting a glare from Blaise and another round of laughter from the others.

"Well I think it would be best if at least you and I do it Nev." Harry said with a shrug, looking over at the larger man as he did so.

"Yeah I don't mind getting involved. Though I think I will just stick to the melee, I don't know much about jousting." Neville replied as he sipped his own cup of wine.

"Sounds good, we'll both stick to the melee." Harry replied with a nod. "Also aim to win Nev; we need to make a big impact while we are here."

"I thought the fact that I was going to go for the win would have been obvious." Neville replied with a slight grin.

"Well you will have to get passed me first."

"Bring it!"

"Yes your both pretty we know." Tracey interrupted with a roll of her eyes before she looked over at Harry. "So Harry, what did that Lannister want with you?"

Harry went silent at that, his face pensive as he thought back on his brief conversation with the Lannister 'Imp'."Just to talk, though he also seemed to be… assessing me, judging me almost. But either way our conversation was illuminating, as I found out something about our position in King's Landing that I am not too happy about."

"What about the fact that we are seen as just a 'little House in a large Kingdom?'" Tracey asked with a roll of her eyes, "Please tell me that you haven't only just realised that?"

"Wait a second, you knew about that already?" Harry asked as he snapped his head back to look at Tracey.

"Duh! I mean Daphne worked that out when we were still I Winterfell." Tracey said with exasperation. "We just assumed you would have realised, I mean you are a smart guy Harry, surely you realised that the Iron Island's were a minor power in the grand scheme of things, or at least it is seen as such by most of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Err… yeah Harry! I mean god how did you not know that?" Seamus spoke up a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeah, I mean we realised that ages ago!" Dean spoke up with a nod.

"Bullshit!" Blaise said as he shot the two men a glare. "You two had no idea at all, and probably would have never realised without being told. Bloody Gryffindor' the lot of you!"

"I take it you knew already Blaise?" Tracey asked in a droll tone.

"Aye, when Harry first told me that we were being summoned to King's Landing." Blaise growled back, absentmindedly scratching under his mask as he did so. "But anyway, Potter, why did you not ask me to be in the tournament?"

Frowning slightly as he realised how foolish it was to miss something so obvious, Harry instead looked over at Blaise. "Because I didn't want you to turn the tournament into a bloodbath, we want to make an impression, but not a bad one."

"Still would have been nice to be asked." Blaise grumbled under his breath, his hand now toying with the hilt of his sword.

"So anyway, Tracey, I take it Daphne had a plan in mind for how to deal with our position in King's Landing?" Harry asked as he turned away from the grumbling Blaise and instead looked over at Tracey.

"She had some outline plans, but as you know most of them are based on winning approval from the King and gaining a possible position at court. Ideally we would want to be named our own kingdom as that would give us greater freedom in which to act. Though she did have an interesting idea of how to hijack an already established presence in King's Landing for our own purposes, though I warn you it is pretty ruthless and potentially very dangerous."

"Have you ever known me to shy away from danger?" Harry asked with a roll of his eyes.

"Good because most of this will rely on you and your powers of… persuasion." Tracey said with a slight smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes when he heard that, Harry's 'persuasive capabilities' more often than not came down to using hi s rather formidable mind magic to basically force people into doing what they wanted. This held an inherent danger though as a single person can only influence so many minds at a time, if they try and control to many it could cause damage within the casters own mind from the strain. Mind magic could also be fought off, and not just by magicals' but by muggles' to, it all depends on the person strength of will in comparison to the caster. A common mistake people seemed to jump to is that muggles can't fight off things like compulsions or the imperious curse, which in its self is untrue, anyone can fight off the imperious curse if they have the strength of will to do so.

Another potential issue in regards to Harry being 'persuasive' is the potential that someone would notice his target acting differently. That could bring about suspicion, which would lead to more attention being put on the target making manipulating him much harder as he would have to do it without being caught. The manipulation of minds was very powerful tool, but it was not without its flaws.

"So what exactly does Daphne propose and who is the target?" Harry asked with a raised brow.

"What she proposes is so simple even a Gryffindor could have though it up, as for the target, Daphne has left that to you, she trusts your judgment." Tracey said with a smirk.

"Oh and I know exactly who the target will be, but first tell me all the specifics of Daphne's plan." Harry said as he made himself comfortable in a chair, a goblet of wine in his hand.

 **( - )**

 **(Back in Winterfell)**

"Open the gates!" Came the call from one of the guardsmen on the walls of Winterfell. The mail clad man was currently looking over the side of the wall at a group of ten figures. The two in front were wrapped up in grey cloaks, the slight worn material covering their faces from the cold northern air. Behind the two mounted riders were a group of eight other men, they like the other two were mounted on horses, but unlike them they looked less than happy about this. The eight men were wearing silver mail and plate armour; it was recognised by the Stark guardsman as some of the new Iron Island armour that had started becoming very popular, both due to its quality and also the cost. This although still very expensive for the common soldier, was a lot more affordable than the armour sold by other blacksmiths and merchants.

One of the men was holding a standard, with the banner flying from it revealing a black dragon on a grey back ground. It did not take the Stark guardsman long to realise that these were people from the Iron Islands.

Riding through the now open gateway the group quickly trotted into the large keep, drawing to a halt in the courtyard of Winterfell when they saw the waiting figures of Meister Luwin and Ned Stark's heir, Robb.

"Welcome friends!" Robb called to the ten riders as they drew to a halt and began dismounting from their horses. Around the courtyard a number of Stark guardsmen shifted slightly, more than a few hands moving towards their sheathed weapons just in case, after all it was not so long ago that the Iron Islands rebelled against the kingdom. But then again that was when they were ruled by a different House.

Approaching Luwin and Robb Stark the cloaked figures threw back their hoods revealing the faces of Hannah Abbott and Michael Corner. Though Hannah was the only one they recognised as she approached, with Michael having seemingly taken on the roll as her bodyguard.

"Hello again Meister Luwin, Robb." Hannah said with a slight smile as she approached the duo. "It's been a while hasn't it?"

"Hannah!" Robb said in surprise as he looked at the slightly older woman. "I hadn't realised you were coming!"

"Oh? But we sent a message ahead." Hannah said in slight confusion as she looked over to Luwin, who also looked surprised at her appearance.

"Yes, of course we received a request from Lord Albion for permission to setup an embassy in Winterfell. Though from what I had heard the proposed ambassador from the Iron Islands was to be a senior member of Lord Albion's court." Luwin said calmly, not intending any insult with his words as he looked passed Hannah and instead at Michael Corner. "I take it you are Lord Albion's ambassador young man?"

"Ermm… hi there. The name is Michael and I have been sent by Harry to protect Hannah." Michael said awkwardly as he looked over to Hannah. He wasn't really to interested in all this interaction with the rest of Westeros, he had instead just wanted to be assigned to organizing Pyke's newly established library, he had already gathered a small group together to begin cataloguing all the books they had managed to save in their old world and bring over to this new one. But instead of letting him be, Harry had suggested that he travel to the mainland under the pretense of protecting Hannah.

Although instead of protecting her he was supposed to collect information on Westeros, starting with Winterfell's library and then moving onto other stores of knowledge. After all Hannah was more than capable of looking after herself, he was just supposed to gain access with her, get the information and then leave. Which although very interesting, was a bit to hands on for Michael's taste, he would have much preferred sending a minion to do it for him, while he just read and catalogued the findings.

"So you're not the ambassador?" Luwin question in surprise as he looked at the armoured Iron Islanders behind Hannah and Michael.

"No that would be me." Hannah replied with a slight frown. "Lord Harry sent me here to set up and embassy and begin to strengthen relations between the Iron Island's and the rest of the north."

"Oh, so that means you will be staying here at Winterfell then?" Robb asked with a grin as he looked over at Hannah.

Luwin however just looked even more surprised before he turned and walked calmly into the main building. "I will inform Lord Stark of your arrival."

Looking over to the native Iron Islanders she had brought with her, Hannah gave them a sharp look. "We will be staying in Winterfell for the foreseeable future, as such I expect you to remain civil. Is that understood?!"

"Yes my Lady."

"Yes!"

"Understood."

The Iron Islanders muttered as they shifted around uncomfortably. All of them more than aware of the contracts they had willingly signed and of the consequences of acting up. Not that they were going to though, the Iron Islands were flourishing under Lord Albion's rule, and with the worst of the Iron Born either dead or imprisoned, the Islands had become a pleasant place to live.

"Good." Hannah said sweetly before she looked over at Robb. "Well then Robb, would you like to lead the way?"

"Yes, yes I would." Robb replied a slight grin on his face as he kept his gaze fixed on Hannah.

 **( - )**

 **(In King's Landing with Harry)**

"Lord Albion! What an honour it is to have you visit my fine establishment!" Petyr Baelish said in a friendly tone as he approached Harry.

The two of them were currently in the main chamber of Baelish's most popular and opulent establishment. With Harry looking distinctly unruffled as a number of naked women paraded across the room. Other clients could be seen splayed out on cushion seats as Baelish's high class whores engaged them in conversation, the soft titter of laughter could be heard, as the beautiful women pretended to find their wealthy clients conversation both amusing and enthralling.

"Well you did invite me Lord Baelish and I never was one to refuse such a gesture." Harry said with a friendly smile to Baelish. "After all as you said, I am new to the capital, and we all need friends."

Littlefinger's charming smile grew at that, even as he took a seat opposite Harry, idly gesturing for one of the servant s to bring the two of them refreshments. "And good friends I believe we will be."

"Indeed" Harry said taking the proffered cup of wine without hesitation, clinking it against Baelish's cup before taking a drink.

"So how are you finding our stay in King's Landing?" Petyr asked a slight smile on his face. "Met anyone interesting?"

"Only the Small Council really, and of course Tyrion Lannister" Harry said with a casual shrug, draining his goblet as he did so.

His cup though didn't stay empty for long, as a servant immediately filled it up for him.

Shrugging and taking a gulp of wine. Harry spoke up again. "I have to say I really do like this city, far warmer than the Iron Islands, and the girls…" Harry trailed off as he deliberately allowed his eyes to follow one particularly curvaceous whore.

"It's a beautiful city, though also it can be a dangerous one." Petyr said the smile never leaving his face, even as his eyes glinted maliciously.

"Aye, you are right there. I barely know who to turn to in this place." Harry said nodding agreeably even as he drained another cup of wine.

"Well you can always rely on me to help guide you through the treachery of the city, and also through its many… pleasures." Baelish replied a mischievous smile on his face now.

"And that's why I like you Petyr, you're open and honest. Not like the other snakes at court." Harry said as he drank even more wine, his cup never seeming to empty as Petyr made sure it was constantly full.

"Well then you are a smart man, Lord Albion. To see how deceitful some of the people at court are." Baelish said nodding sagely to Harry, even as he took a minuscule sip of wine from his own cup.

"Please, call me Harry!" Harry said, his voice slurring slightly as settled comfortably into his seat.

"Then you may call me Petyr." Littlefinger replied, that kind and friendly smile still in place.

"You know one thing that bothers me. It is that I am one of the Great Lords of Westeros. But yet I have not been given rooms in the palace!" Harry said, his voice rising with indignation.

"A slight no doubt." Baelish said a frown now on his face. "No doubt by the more arrogant Lord at court, those who are no doubt jealous of your sudden rise in both power and wealth."

"Bastards." Harry spat as he shook his cup at the servants an expectant look on his face.

"You'll show them Harry, once you establish yourself and your new House. You will show them all." Littlefinger said an indignant look on his own face. "I too struggled with the same acceptance when I first came to King's Landing, but with my help you should be able to overcome it quickly."

"You're one of the good ones Baelish." Harry said a grin on his face as he sloshed wine over himself.

Settling back into is seat Baelish once again spoke up, changing the topic of the conversation as he did so, more than happy to keep Harry talking. "So Harry, I hear you will be taking part in Prince Joffrey's upcoming nameday tournament."

"Aye should be a good time knocking some of those southern pussies on their arses!" Harry said with a bark of laughter.

"So you are not worried about the competition then. After all with big names like Barriston Selmy, Jamie Lannister, Loras Tyrell and Gregor Clegane, it would not surprise me if a newcomer like you would be somewhat nervous."

"Ha!" Harry said with another bark of laughter, sloshing his wine once again, this time the red liquid spilled out of the cup and ran down his hand. Taking the cup with his other hand, Harry drunkenly began to shake his wine soaked hand; the hand in question shimmered slightly with magic as Harry seemingly waved it at random, droplets of wine hitting Baelish as he did so.

Pushing down a scowl Baelish calmly wiped the wine off his face, before he looked over to the oblivious Harry who was once again drinking.

"So you are not worried about anyone beating you?" Baelish said a smile still on his face as he looked over at the drink Lord. Aware as he did so that they now had the attention of a number of his clients, all of them rich and well known at court.

"Ha! I can crush them all with ease in the melee! Their all overrated if you ask me!"Harry drunkenly boosted, getting a few laughs from around the room.

"Certainly a bold claim." Baelish commented idly.

"I would bet you anything that an Albion will win the melee." Harry said arrogantly, sloshing his wine again as is he waved his hand at Baelish, as if trying to make a point.

"Maybe I will take you up on that." Baelish commented sipping his wine as he did so.

"Go for it, I will bet you anything that Albion will win!" Harry said drunkenly.

"Even say House Albion's claims to the Iron Islands…" Baelish trailed off, a greedy gleam now in his eye as he suddenly saw a path to gaining not only a large amount of wealth, but also a fleet, and an army, on that was even able to challenge the might of Westeros for a time, all of which was for the taking, and all he would need to do is to ensure Lord Albion did not win the melee.

"Aye even that, though you'll have to put up something of equal value!" Harry slurred as he gestured at Baelish expectantly, the shimmer of magic on his hand completely masked by the wine.

Taking another sip of his wine. Baelish gave Harry his first genuine smile. "Oh I am sure we can come to some arrangement my friend, and then we can celebrate with a night on the house."

Harry gave Baelish a drunken grin, even as his eyes momentarily flashed crimson.

 **( - )**

 **(In Essos)**

In a bright airy room in Illyrio Mopatis's home, three figures could be seen standing around a burning brazier.

Clementine smile slightly as she watched her pupils raise their hands over the burning fire in the brazier.

"To control the fire, you must become one with the fire. You must embrace the passions that come with what it represents, life!" Clementine said softly as she looked from Daenerys to Viserys, the smirk still in place as she sure she had their absolute attention. "Emotion is the fuel to our power, whether it is ours or someone else, great emotions, be they anger, hate, fear, joy and love, it all fuels our power!"

Viserys nodded as he embraced his rage at being in exile, his hatred of Robert Baratheon, and the joy he felt as he imagined his enemies burning. The flames beneath his hands rippled as he embraced these feeling, the softly crackling arrange flames turning a dark red as they began to succumb to Viserys's will.

Letting out a roar of anger, he thrust his hands out in front of him, the flames coming to his call as a small blast of reddish fire erupted from the brazier, traveling a few metros before it dispersed in the air.

Viserys gave out a shout of joy as he saw his success.

Clementine's smile widened. "It seems you have a gift your Majesty, your emotions are strong, strong enough to allow you to begin to wield your blessing from R'hllor."

"Of course, I am the blood of the dragon runs in me after all!" Viserys said smugly, the boy practically preening under the attention Clementine was giving him.

Raising her own hands over the fire, Daenerys felt the soft tickle of the flames as they harmlessly flicked across her palms. Digging deep she began to draw on her most powerful emotions, her despair at being orphaned, her helplessness of her situation, her hatred of her brother. As she did this she could feel the power beginning to well up inside her, practically begging to be released.

Taking a deep breath she continued to hold onto her painful memories, her face screwed up in concentration. Thrusting her hands forwards in an attempt to release the building energy within her, she opened her eyes and waited for something to happen.

The fire turned a blueish colour, as it became unsettled. Its original colour soon returned though, even as the fire settled back down.

"And of course my sweet sister failed…" Viserys drawled as he sneered at his sister.

"I don't know why it didn't work." She said softly as she looked uncertainly at Clementine.

"You have the power, but for some reason you aren't able to properly use it. It is as if you a fighting yourself." Clementine commented as she strode up to the younger girl, taking her face in her hands as she looked into her eyes. "It is because you are trying to fight yourself, the emotions you are using are strong, but you are too weak to embrace them."

Turning away from Daenerys Clementine spoke to the both of them. "To truly embrace the Lord of Light's power, you must give up things such as compassion and mercy. They are crutches, used by the weak to justify their own failings. If you want to truly control your power you must let go of your weaknesses!"

Both of the siblings nodded at that, though the uncertainty remained in Daenerys's eyes.

 **AN: So a lot happening and things are starting to change. I know some people may say Harry came across a bit badly in this chapter, but remember no one is perfect and everyone over looks things occasionally, it is called being human.**

 **Also they have a plan to gain more power in King's Landing, I wonder what it is?**

 **The thing with Baelish and the bet is something I noticed when watching the series. The man likes to gamble. He always plays risky games. But more than that he regularly bets on tournaments, he bet on the hands tournament with Renly. He bet on Prince Joffrey's nameday tournament with Tyrion, r at least he said he did. But either way when he mentioned gambling a Valyrian steel blade on the tournament, Varys didn't blink an eye, which tells me that it is common for Baelish to make highstakes bets, after all Valyrian steel blades are incredibly rare, and no doubt incredibly expensive. What he will be betting with Harry though you will have to wait to find out.**

 **The final bit with the two Targaryens is qite important to the plot. After all with Harry's and co's arrival, magic in the world became stronger, and their users more active, which led to Clementine meeting the Targaryen's. You know what they say about throwing a stone into a pond and creating ripples. Well the stone in this story is Harry and the pond is the Game of Thrones verse.**

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and hope you all leave a comment or a review.**

 **Have decided to update my story 10 Tailed Wolf next as I realised it has been a while, so the next update maybe a bit later than I was hoping.**

 **See you all next time.**

 **Seagate**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: So it has been a while then. Here is the next chapter I hope you all enjoy it. This was a bit of a pain in the arse to write so I really do hope you like it.**

 **I have only proof read this once so if you spot any typos or mistakes etc. please point them out. Also quite excited as this story as almost hit 2000 favourites which is really awesome as I never thought it would get this far!**

 **So yeah please do enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, a song of ice and fire or Game of Thrones.**

 ** _(Last Time)_**

" _So you are not worried about anyone beating you?" Baelish said a smile still on his face as he looked over at the drunk Lord. Aware as he did so that they now had the attention of a number of his clients, all of them rich and well known at court._

" _Ha! I can crush them all with ease in the melee! Their all overrated if you ask me!"Harry drunkenly boosted, getting a few laughs from around the room._

" _Certainly a bold claim." Baelish commented idly._

" _I would bet you anything that an Albion will win the melee." Harry said arrogantly, sloshing his wine again as is he waved his hand at Baelish, as if trying to make a point._

" _Maybe I will take you up on that." Baelish commented sipping his wine as he did so._

" _Go for it, I will bet you anything that Albion will win!" Harry said drunkenly._

" _Even say House Albion's claims to the Iron Islands…" Baelish trailed off, a greedy gleam now in his eye as he suddenly saw a path to gaining not only a large amount of wealth, but also a fleet, and an army, on that was even able to challenge the might of Westeros for a time, all of which was for the taking, and all he would need to do is to ensure Lord Albion did not win the melee._

" _Aye even that, though you'll have to put up something of equal value!" Harry slurred as he gestured at Baelish expectantly, the shimmer of magic on his hand completely masked by the wine._

 _Taking another sip of his wine. Baelish gave Harry his first genuine smile. "Oh I am sure we can come to some arrangement my friend, and then we can celebrate with a night on the house."_

 _Harry gave Baelish a drunken grin, even as his eyes momentarily flashed crimson._

 _ **( - )**_

 **Chapter 13**

 **( - )**

"You know, this is much nicer than I thought it would be." Daphne commented absently as she looked around the patio she was currently sat at, her current companion Fleur nodding along with her as she to admired the beauty of their surroundings.

Currently they were in Highgarden. The home of House Tyrell the Lord's of the Reach. The group had been in the city for a day now. Since their arrival they had rented out, very cheaply thanks to Fleur's allure, a rather stately home that was in the most affluent part of the city. The house was a large stone building, with wide windows and big rooms. Daphne and her entire entourage were currently staying in the house, with the twenty, hulking golems, now all clad in armour standing sentry at the entrance and situated around the building.

Highgarden after all might be beautiful and not have the same reputation as King's Landing, but that did not mean Daphne was going to let her guard down. No, for her the only place in this world she would ever put her guard down was when she was on the Iron Islands with Harry. The place had become a veritable fortress as the defensive construction had all been done, which meant that rune enhanced walls surrounded the boundary of every island. With rune cannon batteries having been placed in strategic points around all seven of the islands in the archipelago, in areas that would most likely be used for a landing if an invasion or attacks likely to occur.

In comparison staying in this warded mansion in Highgarden with a number of guards made Daphne feel almost naked. Not that she was about to complain about that. As in her mind she was at her best when she was under pressure.

"Oui, it is nice. Zough I would much prefer it if we were back on zee Islands." Fleur replied as she also looked around, a slight smile lingering on her face as she saw all the beautiful flowers that were planted around the patio. "Zough 'aving flowers is a bonus."

Daphne smirked at that, even as she also admired the beauty of their scenery. "Have the Tyrell's replied yet?"

"Non, zough I have been told a number of people 'ave been watching the house. Padma 'as also told me that she was followed when she and some of the golems went into the market." Fleur replied as she lifted a cup of tea from the table and had a sip.

"That's not really unexpected." Daphne replied as she took her own cup and brought it to her lips. "They probably knew of our arrival within minutes of us moving in. What they are doing is just a game."

"A game?" Fleur questioned.

"Yes, they are making us wait, no doubt as a show of power or to put us off guard when we finally do meet them. No doubt we will soon receive an invitation for a casual meeting with some of the Tyrells, the more intelligent and erudite ones no doubt. As from what I have heard of their Lord, Mace Tyrell, the man is a blustering fool and an embarrassment. No it is more likely we will be asked to a casual meeting with Olenna Tyrell, the proclaimed Queen of Thorns." An amused Daphne commented, not at all put out at having to wait for a meeting. As for her politics was all just a game, a game of risk, half truths and lies.

"Why only a casual meeting? Why not a proper discussion over zee relationship between the Iron Islands and the Reach?" Fleur asked, somewhat out of her element here.

"They won't want to sit down for a proper discussion right away. They don't know enough about us, they don't know what we want and don't want, they don't know our temperament or really anything about us." Daphne replied, her tea cup now on the table as she gave Fleur her full attention. "Only a fool would go into battle unprepared, and this is no different. Every person is different and every person will respond to different things. In order to succeed you need to read both the room and your opponent and plan accordingly."

"So are you going to go to the meeting?" Fleur asked curiously.

"Why of course." Daphne replied. "They aren't the only ones who will be fishing for information. As all I know about them is based on rumour and the opinions of others. When it comes down to it, I prefer to make my own conclusions."

"Well, it looks like you will not 'ave to wait long for zat meeting." Fleur replied, a slight smirk o her face as she watched a young looking man, dressed in the garb of a House Tyrell servant approaching their table.

Raising an eyebrow Daphne turned slightly in her seat so she could also see the approaching man, a slight smile now playing around her lips as she drained the last of her tea. "So it looks like they have gotten bored of waiting."

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry in King's Landing)**

"So you remember the plan then Nev." Harry commented idly as he checked the buckles of his dragon hide armour. Making sure as he did so that they were tight. After all despite dragonhide being as hard as steel and slightly magic resistant, it was still just armour, and like any armour if not properly worn it wouldn't be as effective.

"What the plan that we win no matter what?" Neville replied as he glanced in Harry's direction. "I would have thought that was obvious."

"It is not just the winning that is important. It is the way that we win. Remember this is not just a competition, it is also a show. People compete not just to win, but to also show off their skills and to win in a way that will gain them reputation and respect." Harry replied as he turned to face Neville. "Just remember. Win, but win in a way that gets not just the nobles but the crowd on our side. The Iron Islands have a notorious reputation after all, but popular opinion is a fickle thing and can easily be changed."

"I suppose you know that as well as anyone." Neville replied, as he remembered the way Harry's popularity went up and down depending on what the Daily Prophet led the crowd to believe.

"Indeed." Harry replied a frown on his face.

Before anymore could be said between them, they were interrupted by the arrival of Seamus. The red faced Irishman making himself known as he pushed through the canvas flap that acted as an entrance for the tent they were currently getting ready in.

"Oi you lot almost ready!" Seamus said, his voice slightly slurred. Dean and him having no doubt been joining in the festivities that surrounded tournaments such as these. "The Melee is about to begin. The archery finished an hour ago, tourney grounds have been cleared and the other fighters are beginning to enter."

Harry frowned slightly at that. "I thought the archery contest would have lasted a lot longer?"

Seamus gained a shifty expression on his face at that.

"What is it?" Harry asked an eyebrow raised.

"Well me and Dean might have gotten into a little bit of an argument with some of those Lannister chaps. Turns out that the Iron Born are pretty hated..." Seamus trailed off.

"Yes so I have gathered." Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. He had in fact heard a number of negative comments himself about the Iron Born. Though unlike what Seamus said the majority of the dislike for the Iron Born came from the North, the Westerlands and the Reach, and even then most of that was based on stories and rumours about the Iron Born. The hatred was not exactly misplaced either, the Iron Born was absolute scum and deserved the fate Harry and his group gave them. However their reputation was in fact no darker than that of some of the other Houses. No one House was universally liked.

"So what has the reputation of the Iron Born got to do with the archery competition?" Neville asked confused.

"Well those Lannister's were being wankers to us and we kind of got in an argument about who was better. Then they started bragging about how they had a man in the archery contest who was going to win it for House Lannister..." Seamus said with a slight laugh.

"So you decided to challenge that and enter yourself?" Harry asked an amused expression on his face.

"Well not me, but Dean did." Seamus said a slight grin on his face.

"I take it he won?" Harry asked.

"He absolutely crushed that Lannister tosser." Seamus grinned now. "Won the entire contest with ease!"

"Really?" Neville asked in surprise. "I never knew Dean was that good of an archer?"

"Oh he's not. He is absolutely shit!" Seamus laughed his grin bigger than before.

"Magic?" Harry asked.

"Hell yeah." Seamus replied, before adding. "Though he did it really subtle and all that. No one noticed a thing, didn't even question how we even entered the contest so quickly in the first place."

"Well as long as you didn't fuck up it is fine." Harry replied, a slight twinkle in his eye. "So did you bet on it?"

"Yeah, I bled those Lannister dry." Seamus replied even happier. "Though most of it kind of went on buying booze for me and Dean... and maybe a couple of others..."

"I take it you spent it all?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, but made plenty of friends though!" Seamus replied cheerfully.

"Of course you did." Neville said a disapproving look on his face.

"Easy there Nev. It is Dean and Seamus's money and they can spend it how they like." Harry jumped in before an argument could start. "Now grab your sword we have a tournament to win."

With that said Harry grabbed his rapier from where it was resting against the worn wooden table in the middle of the tent. Handing it over to Seamus as he did so, getting a confused look from the man in response.

"The blade has Basilisk Venom embedded into it. All it would take is a single cut and they would die." Harry explained, before continuing as he saw that Seamus still looked confused. "The aim of the Melee is not to kill as many nobles and knights as you can. We are after all trying to make allies here, slaughtering these muggles would hardly make the best of impressions."

"Yeah I suppose." Seamus admitted, taking Harry's proffered sword as he did so. "But what are you going to use instead?"

His answer was the slight scrape of metal as Harry casually unsheathed Seamus's hand and half blade. Taking a few practice swings with the Goblin Steel weapon. Giving the Irish man a slight smirk as he did so. "Hope you don't mind."

"You could have at least asked." Seamus grumbled as he tucked Harry's sword beneath his armpit before turning to leave the tent. "You should probably hurry though, it is about to start."

As he said that the sounds of trumpets could be heard and the roar of the crowd increased. No doubt announcing the arrival of the King's herald. The one who would be announcing the beginning of the Melee.

"Ah shit." Harry cursed as he hurried out of the tent.

Neville rolled his eyes at that before he grabbed his large great sword from the table and rested it against his shoulder. His other hand grabbing onto his own crested silver helmet, as well as Harry's helmet.

"Hold on Harry!" Neville called as he followed after him. Trying to clumsily balance his sword and the two helmets he was carrying as he did so.

 **( - )**

 **(With Daphne in Highgarden)**

"So... Lady Albion how have you been finding your time here in Highgarden?" An elderly matron looking woman asked as she looked across at the attractive woman across from her. An analyitical look in her eyes as she seemed to assess the woman.

"It is a truly beautiful place. The climate is certainly very agreeable." Daphne relied agreeably, her own icy blue eyes fixed on the woman in front of her. Assessing her as much as Olenna Tryell the matriarch of House Tyrell, and the true power behind the House.

A slight smile spread across Olenna's face as she heard that before her gaze flickered over to Fleur. "And what about you dear?"

Fleur glanced over at Daphne as she heard that, before upon seeing Daphne's slight nod she replied, a beautiful smile spreading across her face. "It is definitely a beautiful place. Not as 'arsh or cold as zee Iron Islands."

"That's a rather unique accent you have there." Olenna replied, her sharp gaze on Fleur.

"Yes well Fleur is not a native of the Iron Islands. She like several others on the Iron Islands were recruited by Lord Albion while he was travelling." Daphne spoke up, smoothly gaining Olenna's full attention on her. As she did so she saw the expectant look on the old ladies face. "Some time after the Greyjoy rebellion, Harry and a number of those loyal to him left the Isles, wanting to see more of the world than just Westeros."

This was a cover story Daphne had created soon after the announcement of the creation House of Albion. It was a perfect way to deflect any questions about their odd mannerism and exotic ways. Plus it also added a bit of mystery and also distracted people from looking further into other things, such as how such a small number of people pacified all the Iron Island's so easily. Though months later such a thing was no longer a worry, as there version of events was so widespread that it had now basically become fact.

"So he is a bit of a collector then, this Lord Harry?" Olenna asked, a searching looks on her face.

"A collector? No nothing so trivial. Harry just knows a good investment when he sees one." Dapphne replied, a slight smile on her face.

"And does this Lord Harry have any investments in mind at the moment?" Olenna asked curiously.

"Well I am not privy to all his thoughts... but I do know he is interested in looking for potential allies in the Seven Kingdoms... both economic and more..." Daphne trailed off as she turned away to look out across Highgarden. There position on the castles garden allowing her a good view of the cities beauty.

"How interesting." Olenna replied as she joined Daphne in looking out across the city. "But tell me is this the reason you came to Highgarden?"

"Of course not, after all if it was I would have requested a meeting with your son, Lord Tyrell." Daphne replied with a slight smirk.

"Yes I suppose my son is the Lord of Highgarden." Olenna responded, dismissively at the thought of her idiot of a son. "Then what is you purpose here?"

"Just a visit, I heard Highgarden was a beautiful place and wanted to see whether it truly was." Daphne responded nonchalantly.

"And does it live up to your expectations?" Olenna asked.

"Why of course." Daphne said.

"I heard Lord Harry is currently in King's Landing. May I ask why you did not accompany him Lady Albion?" Olenna asked as she once again turned to look at Daphne. "Is it not the duty of a man's wife to remain by his side?"

"But alas I am not married." Daphne replied, her tone somewhat stiffer as she heard Olenna's comment. "But my Lord does trust me enough to act on his behalf when necessary."

"And will you be acting on his behalf whilst here?" Olenna instantly asked, trying to find a chink in Daphne's proverbial armour.

"Does not every member of a Lord's household represent him no matter where they are?" Daphne deflected with ease.

"True but not every member of a Lord's household would have his blessing to act on his behalf." Olenna replied quickly.

"But yet here we are." Daphne replied with a slight shrug.

"Indeed here we are." Olenna acknowledged, understanding the comparison between them Daphne was making. Just as she spoke on her son's behalf, mainly due to his incompetence, so too did Daphne speak on her Lord's, though that was due to his absence instead of his incompetence.

"So just to sate an old woman's curiosity, if you were to act on your Lord's behalf, what would the terms of the alliance you are looking for be?" Olenna asked as she gave Daphne her sole attention, ignoring Fleur completely now.

"From the way I see it..." Daphne began a slight gleam in her eye as they finally got down to the true reasons behind this meeting.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry and Neville in King's Landing)**

Looking around the tournament arena Harry took note that it consisted of one large field, that looked like it had experienced many years of use. The ground of the arena was plain dirt mixed with sand, and there was a five foot tall wall surrounding the whole area. To the side of the arena, there was a set of wooden stands, a heightened area that had a large canopy overhead that provided shade to those sitting beneath. It was in these stands that the King sat on a slightly raised dais with the Queen, Cersei Lannister sitting to his right, and the young Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon and his other children Tommen and Myrcella sitting to his left slightly lower than him. The rest of the stand was filled up with high ranking Lords and other members of the court, each of which were sat in comfortable seats overlooking the tourney.

To the other side of the arena was a chest wooden wall, behind which the common people crowded all of them trying to get a look at the tournament about to take place. Currently the crowded was humming with excitement as they awaited the beginning of the melee. The King's herald had already done his announcement and they were just waiting on the King's final command for it to begin.

Currently standing in the four corners of the arena, in four groups were those who were about to participate in the upcoming event. The groups were a mixed lot as some wore finely made armour and stood with small retinues of loyal men, who were there to assist there Lord's to victory, these were then men entering more for reputation than for any monetary reward that would follow. Others however stood alone wearing only cheap mail or sometimes just leather armour, hold weapons ranging from axes and swords to hammers and spears. These were the men who had entered in the hope of winning the prize money, forty thousand gold stags, a fortune that could set a man for life if he got it.

The majority of the crowd though was most likely just mercenaries and sell swords, those who were hoping to both become famous and also earn their fortune, but there were also a couple of young Knights and squires dotted amongst them, nobles who entered alone and not with small retinues for back up.

It was in amongst this rabble that Harry and Neville were stood; each of them standing out slightly due to their fine weapons and armour. But standing out a bit amongst the rabble was much preferable to standing isolated amongst the armoured groups who had already teamed up.

"So you nervous Nev?" Harry asked with good humour as he looked around him, taking in the sight of the common folk who were baying for blood and action, and then in contrast the nobles who were indulging in wine and laugh amongst themselves. It was amongst this group that Lord Petyr Baelish was sat, a slightly superior smile on his face as he noticed Harry looking at him. No doubt the snake had done something to guarantee his chance of winning his and Harry's little wager.

"Not really." Neville replied in a slightly bored voice, look completely unconcerned by some of the glares and scrutinizing looks they were receiving from those surrounding them. "If anything I feel sorry for those who we are about to go up against."

That comment got the pair a few sneers and mocking laughs from those around them.

"I wouldn't feel too bad about it Nev, this lot knew what they were getting into when they entered." Harry replied with supreme calm, easily ignoring the sneers and laugh they were receiving.

"It is taking a while to start isn't it?" Neville replied before he looked over to the raised dais that the King was sat on, only for him to grimace slightly as he saw the King downing a goblet of wine, the red liquid dripping down his beard and onto his fine clothes.

"I am sure we will start soon." Harry said absently before with a sideways glance he noticed some grey cloth wrapped around Neville's upper arm. Grinning slightly as he saw it Harry gave Neville a wink before commenting. "Is that a favour from a girl I see their Neville?"

Neville shifted uncomfortably at that before replying. "Yara gave it me for luck."

"Ooh getting pretty serious then." Harry teased with a slight grin, his crimson flecked green eyes twinkling slightly as he saw Neville shift slightly at his word, the helmet in his hand clanking off his breastplate. "Though I have to say, I never imagined that Yara would be quite so… girly…"

"Well…" Neville began once again shifting uncomfortably, before letting out a slightly embarrassed sigh. "She also said if I won she would ride me so hard I might break a hip if I won."

"Ha!" Harry barked out with laughter. "Yeah that sounds more like Yara."

Before Neville could reply however they were instead interrupted by the King's loud obnoxious voice bellowing out.

"Start the fight already!"

Upon hearing that Neville stabbed his sword into the ground and donned his helmet, an intricately crafted silver helm, that he had had custom made by the goblins. The helmet was in the form of a snarling bear head, the metal fangs of the bear reaching down to frame his face. This gave him a rather intimidating presence, one that was noticed almost immediately as those who saw him unconsciously edged backwards; the fear factor was helped by the massive sword he soon wielded with both hands.

Harry's helmet however was one Daphne had custom made for him soon after they arrived in this world. It was made of black coloured metal and molded to look like a dragon's skull. After all in Daphne's words 'as the Lord of House Albion he should wear something that befitting of that title,' and since Albion's crest was that of a dragon, her choice of design for his helmet was quite apt.

More than a few of the other warriors started muttering as they saw Harry's dragon themed helmet, the dark colour fitting in well with his red dragonhide armour, and silver mail. Before any comment could be made however, the sound of horn's being blown filled the arena, the signal for the beginning of the melee.

"Come on then Nev; let's show them that Albion is rising!" Harry said a feral grin now on his face, even as Neville grunted in reply, a grin on his own face.

In response to the sound of the horn the crowd of common folk let out a large roar of approval, even as the gathered fighters charged into the centre of the arena. All of them already having been briefed on what the rules of the event were, basically you should not try to kill anyone, nor should you attack a member of your grouping until the battle had been joined, by which they meant all four groups clashed in the centre of the arena.

Not that everyone obeyed those rules, as within seconds of the King's shout and the crowd's roar. At least three participants found themselves hamstrung. Causing the men to fall to the ground, only to die from being trampled underfoot by the eager fighters charging into the upcoming mock battle.

The arena was almost immediately packed with battles and some of the nobles in the stands were on their feet trying to get a better look at the fighting. The rest of the crowd let out a deafening cheer, even as they shouted support and obscenities, baying for blood as they watch the ongoing violence.

Harry and Neville upon entering the melee, decided to stick together. Working in unison as Neville with his large great sword, heavy armour and massive size took the brunt of their assailant's assault. With a loud shout the two of them forged into the thick of the battle. Neville holding his sword with both hand, cutting through anyone that got in his way as his goblin forged blade cut through his opponents mail and armour like it was paper.

Harry however was all speed and grace, as he both protected Neville's back, and launched a devastating assault on anyone daring to attack them, His hand and half sword blurring through the air, as he wielded it with unparallel skill. His every strike either piercing armour, or slashing muscle, though he did avoid any death blows.

Within moments a slip space had appeared around the two of them, as the mercenaries and sell swords decided that there was easier prey elsewhere. Whilst the less experienced fighters found themselves cowed by the number of screaming and crying bodies that littered the floor around them.

Harry and Neville though did not remain where they were. No that would have been a foolish mistake, after all, although they had wounded many of the fighters that did not mean that they were completely incapacitated. There was still that ever present fear of being attack by someone on the ground.

Once again charging into the thick of the fighting, Harry once again used Neville as a human shield, allowing him to take the brunt of the attack, whilst he counterattacked. It was a tried and practiced method the two had used before and like before it was working well.

The momentum however was soon stopped by a large bellow that could be heard above the sounds of fighting. Looking over Neville's shoulder, Harry found himself confronted by the sight of a massive hulk of a man, bigger even than Neville, standing at maybe eight foot tall and clad in heavy armour a massive sword in his own hand.

Harry did not have much time to react as with another bellow the massive knight charged the duo. The other combatants darting out of his way as he did so. Uncowed though Neville let out his own challenging shout, before he raised his sword and charged the warrior. The two massive and heavily armoured warrior soon meeting in combat as their swords began to clash.

"It looks like your friend there is going to get himself killed." A mocking voice spoke up behind Harry, causing him to turn to look at the speaker.

It was a plain looking man, wearing a mixture of plate armour and mail, a sword held loosely in one hand, whilst his other held up a plain wooded shield. Behind the man stood half a dozen mean looking men, all of which were giving Harry there full attention. Ignoring the other combatants in the melee, as they instead just focused on Harry.

"Which I suppose makes our job easier as we just have to kill you now.,," The smirking man continued, as he took a step forward and began to raise his sword.

Before he could fully raise it however his head fell off his shoulders.

With a dull thud the armoured man collapsed to the floor dead.

Letting out a slight whistle Harry stepped over his headless corpse, his eyes now gleaming red as he took in the shocked looks on the faces of the man's companions.

"Shall we…" Harry said, as he swiped his blood stained sword through the air. A feral smile on his face as he felt his heart beginning to beat faster, his magic almost singing as he glared down the men who had come to challenge him. Men no doubt sent by Baelish to ensure he won their little wager.

Not ever waiting for a reply Harry sped forward, moving like the wind as he jumped into the air, his sword raised, as he slashed at the man nearest to him. His steel found the gap between the man's helmet and armour, tearing through his muscle, flesh and bone, killing him instantly. Before he could celebrate though Harry suddenly felt a burning pain in his leg, looking down he saw a dagger sticking out of his thigh. Following it down he saw a bloody and unfamiliar looking man holding the dagger. With a slash of his blade, Harry killed the man, who had most probably been taken out earlier in the melee and be playing dead.

Either way he was dead and Harry was pissed. With a shout of his own, Harry ripped the blade out of his leg, already feeling his ritually enhanced muscles slowly stitching themselves together. With a flick of his wrist Harry hurled the blade at a man, the dagger striking his eye and killing him.

Not that Harry cared about holding back now. No he was angry now; his gleaming red eye almost glowed as he threw himself into battle against his would be assassins. Almost dancing as he dodged strikes sent his way and counterattacked. His magic enhanced muscles burning as he pushed them to their limits.

Not that Harry was the only one giving into his anger and blood lust as the melee soon turned into a bloodbath. The warriors involved lashing out at anything they could as they desperately tried to beat down there opponents.

Within about ten minutes Harry's armour was completely soaked with blood, and the field was almost clear. Leaning on his borrowed sword, Harry scanned his surroundings, the arena field was soaked red with blood and looked, the churned up ground littered with injured and dead fighters. There were only three still standing, Harry himself, who looked like he had gone through a meat grinder. His dragonhide armour covered in fresh scratches, the armour on his shoulder was covered in cracks from a mace that had managed to hit Harry. The other two combatants were Neville and the hulking man who had challenged him earlier on in the fight. A man who Harry soon recognised after taking a proper look, as Ser Gregor Clegane also known as the Mountain. A beast of a knight who had a vile reputation, that made even the Iron Born look like saints.

The crowd in the arena was still cheering as the melee continued, the King's boisterous shouts being easily heard, even over the shouts of the crowd.

"Ha! What a fight! Reminds me of the good old days!" Robert drunkenly roared, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he watched the duel.

"Come on Nev finish it!" Harry called out slightly tiredly. Before his eye flickered to the stands, only to see Littlefinger trying to quietly leave. Not that he would get very far as Dean, Seamus and Tracey was on standby. All three of them ready to grab the snake like man if he tried to run out on the wager. He did after all have something Harry wanted, something that was more valuable than his wealth and businesses. His spy network, which was said to be almost on a par with Varys the Master of Whispers own.

Tearing his yes away from the worm of a man Harry turned back to Neville's fight as he heard a few gasps and screams coming from the crowd.

Harry smirked slightly as he saw the reason behind their shock and surprise. Neville like Harry had told him, had finished the fight. His great sword now being lodged deeply in the Mountain's shoulder. The hulk of a man having collapsed to his knees, roaring out in pain as Neville's blade struck.

Harry didn't even need to give Neville the command, as with a mighty heave he dislodged his blade for the Mountain. Before with a roar he slammed it home once more, the goblin forged blade tearing through the man's armour, muscle and bone, literally splitting the Mountain in two.

Pulling his blade out of the now dead man's body, Neville turned to look at Harry his bloody blade in hand.

Harry raised his hand before saying. "You win Neville." Not even bothered about which one of them won the event. After all no matter who won, House Albion would win both the melee and Harry's wager with Littlefinger. Not that it was much of a wager anyway as Harry had manipulated the manipulator from the start, and though his victory was bloodier than he had wanted, a victory is still a victory.

 **( - )**

 **(Highgarden with Daphne)**

"Any alliance we would be looking for would of course be in the beginning mainly economical." Daphne began setting out the basic terms of what she wanted. "It would involve reduced tariffs on traders from the Iron Islands when doing business in the Reach. In return for ports and markets in the Reach receiving priority in regards to where we sell some of our goods and also reduced prices for merchants based entirely within the Reach's main settlements."

"But what of the competition our own traders will face when trying to sell their goods. Especially if Iron Island goods flood our markets. " Olenna asked calmly.

"True but the Reach's main produce is based on agriculture, which before now you held a monopoly on. However with the sudden boom in the Iron Island's production that monopoly is threatened. Unless of course specific constraints are put on where each of our traders can sell their goods after all there are Seven Kingdoms and despite the Iron Island's recent ripe harvest our own production of crops and livestock are not on the level of your own." Daphne commented.

"But alas we do not have the number of ships needed to move our produce around so it can reach the other six kingdoms, certainly not in a way that is safe from piracy." Olenna said as she gave Daphne a careful look.

"Well it is a good thing the Iron Islands have a surplus of ships with which to use for trading." Daphne replied a slight smile on her face.

"Why what a marvellous coincidence..." Olenna replied, not even bothering to fain surprise. "Though I believe the specifics of any such alliance like this would require minds more versed in trade and the economy than ours."

"Well it is indeed lucky that a member of my entourage happens to be one such person." Daphne said with another slight smile.

"And so the coincidences continue." Olenna said drolly.

"Yes and so they do..." Daphne replied the smile not leaving her face.

Before anymore could be said however they were interrupted by the arrival of a pretty, young woman who gracefully stepped into the garden. Her long brown hair slightly curled, flowing freely down to her lower back.

"Ahh Margery come join us." Olenna called out as she also took notice of the new arrival.

With a dazzling smile the now named Margery approached where the trio were sitting, her hazel eyes flickering from the radiant Feur, to the strikingly beautiful Daphne before coming to rest on Olenna. "Of course grandmother, I do hope I am not interrupting."

"Of course not now do sit down." Olenna replied waving her over before she turned back to Daphne. "My granddaughter Margery. I hope you don't mind if she joins us." The way Olenna phrased her question made it seem like less of a request and more of a statement of fact.

"Of course not." Daphne replied as she locked eye with Margery. "I look forward to making you granddaughter acquaintance."

"Good." Olenna said as Margery took a sat by her side before she decided to properly introduce the two of them. "Margery this is Lady Daphne Albion a member of the newly established House Albion and her companion Fleur was it dear?"

"Yes." Fleur replied as she gave Margery a dazzling smile, the Veela licking her lips slightly as she took in Margery lithe form.

"It is an honour to meet you both." Margery said courteously as she greeted both Daphne and Fleur. "I hope we get to know each other well during your time in Highgarden."

"I am sure we will." Daphne replied her eyes flickering suspiciously between Margery and Olenna, certain that Margery's sudden appearance was not as spontaneous as they would have had her believe.

 **AN: So the tournament is over and things are moving. Next chapter will involve a time skip as we move on to the start of canon timeline. I think there should be some surprises in store for what is to come. Including the outcome of the Tryell alliance and what Harry will do with Baelish and his wealth. I have been given some pretty cool ideas about a potential magic based spy network, which I am looking forward to exploring.**

 **But anyway as always please review, as I do enjoy reading them and I do take into account suggestions and ideas. All are very useful when it comes to creating this story as I find other people' input quite useful when developing my own ideas.**

 **So yeah I will see you all later and again I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **See you next time.**

 **Seagate.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Huzzah another chapter. Took me a while to build up the enthusiasm for this story but a few PMs, a look at some of the past reviews I received and the season of Game of Thrones have got my creative juices flowing. So without further ado I give you the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or Harry Potter.**

 **(Last Time)**

 _Before anymore could be said however they were interrupted by the arrival of a pretty, young woman who gracefully stepped into the garden, her long brown hair slightly curled and flowing freely down to her lower back._

" _Ahh Margery come join us." Olenna called out as she also took notice of the new arrival._

 _With a dazzling smile the now named Margery approached where the trio were sitting, her hazel eyes flickering from the radiant Fleur, to the strikingly beautiful Daphne before coming to rest on Olenna. "Of course grandmother, I do hope I am not interrupting."_

" _Of course not now do sit down." Olenna replied waving her over before she turned back to Daphne. "My granddaughter Margery. I hope you don't mind if she joins us." The way Olenna phrased her question made it seem like less of a request and more of a statement of fact._

" _Of course not." Daphne replied as she locked eyes with Margery. "I look forward to making your granddaughter's acquaintance."_

" _Good." Olenna said as Margery took a seat by her side before she decided to properly introduce the two of them. "Margery this is Lady Daphne Albion a member of the newly established House Albion and her companion... Fleur was it dear?"_

" _Yes." Fleur replied as she gave Margery a dazzling smile, the Veela licking her lips slightly as she took in Margery's lithe form._

" _It is an honour to meet you both." Margery said courteously as she greeted both Daphne and Fleur. "I hope we get to know each other well during your time in Highgarden."_

" _I am sure we will." Daphne replied her eyes flickering suspiciously between Margery and Olenna, certain that Margery's sudden appearance was not as spontaneous as they would have had her believe._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 14**

 **( - )**

 **(One Year later in King's Landing)**

In Kings Landing, the bells from the Great Sept could be heard throughout the city as they were rung to mourn the death of the late Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, who had died just a day ago of a sudden illness that had struck him down with no warning,

Cersei Lannister watched expressionlessly as priests went about conducting the death rites for Jon Arryn. At a first glance her face was expressionless, but if one were to look closely they would be able to see the slightest hints of concern in her eyes as she watched Jon Arryn being prepared for his funeral. As she was watching the ongoing display, Jamie Lannister, her brother, walked up beside her.

"As your brother, I feel that it's my duty to warn you… you worry too much. It's starting to show." Jamie said his own expression showing his relief at Jon's death, even as he looked over at his very slightly older twin sister in concern.

"And you never worry about anything. When we were seven we jumped off the cliffs at Casterly Rock… a one hundred-foot drop into the water. You were never afraid." Cersei replied as she looked to her brother, the slightest hints of amusement now on her face as she did so.

"There was nothing to be afraid of, or at least not until you told father. Lannister's, Lannister's don't act like fools." Jamie replied in amusement, before mimicking his father's voice, causing his sister's lips to twitch upwards in amusement.

The amusement soon faded though as Cersei once again looked back at the body of the King's hand."What if Jon Arryn told someone?"

"But who would he tell?" Jamie asked a frown on his face as his sister continued to worry, unnecessarily in his opinion, about who Jon could or could not have told.

"My husband." Cersei said immediately before a frown crossed her face. "Or those Albion's. That whore they left behind is always skulking around, and you know that Jon Arryn visited some of her brothels and I very much doubt it was to indulge in the pleasure of the flesh."

Jamie frowned at that. The woman she was speaking about was Lady Tracey Albion, a close relative of the Lord of House Albion and the new owner and manager of all Baelish's former brothels. When he had heard that Littlefinger had lost both them and his wealth, Jamie had been greatly amused. The man was a weasel and any misfortune that fell up on him was fine by Jamie.

Cersei however upon hearing of what had happened had been more concerned, Baelish she had told him was a powerful man in terms of wealth, influence and information. The fact that his resources were now in the hands of a dangerous new House was not a good thing.

The fact that this House was also responsible for the death of her father's mad dog Gregor Clegane and their main competitors for the wealthiest House in Westeros showed that they also did not have the proper respect and fear of the Lannisters that was appropriate. Since then Cersei had attempted to marginalise the Albion's influence at court, with varying degrees of success. Tracey Albion had always seemed to be one step ahead though, and had now thoroughly entrenched herself and the other Iron Islanders she had brought with her into King's Landing. It wasn't helped either by the fact that the Tyrell's were also growing in wealth and influence, the alliance that had been formed between them and the Albion's had made both very rich and very influential.

Pushing that out of his mind Jamie instead gave his sister an easy smile."If he told the King, both our heads would be skewered on the city gates by now. If he told the Albion's... well we can deal with them too. No matter how rich and cunning you are a knife in the back will kill you all the same. But if you ask me whatever Jon Arryn knew or didn't know died with him. Robert will hire a new Hand, someone to do his job while he's out fucking boars and hunting whores. Or is it the other way around… and life will go on."

"You should be the Hand of the King." Cersei said immediately, not letting go of her concerns over House Albion, concerns that have been growing more and more as the number of armoured soldiers wearing the dragon sigil of House Albion increased in the city. "Better a Lannister then anyone else."

"That's an honour I could do without. Their days are too long and their lives are too short." Jamie said as they both now looked at Jon's body. Besides, Robert hates me he would never consider me for the position. Nor would he consider an Iron Born even a former one at that. No from what I have heard we will be taking a trip up North soon."

Cersei still did not looked convinced by this but she eventually allowed herself to loosen up, at least enough to let Jamie lead her away. No doubt so they could take advantage of the temporary freedom Jamie had from protecting Robert.

As the two of them disappeared neither of them noticed a very faintly glowing symbol carved high up on the wall behind them, a symbol that any wizard worth his salt would recognise as a monitoring rune.

 **( - )**

"Well isn't that interesting." Tracey Davis muttered to herself, a smirk on her face as she sat on a throne like chair, her dark brown eyes fixed on a large six foot tall mirror, a mirror that was currently showing the conversation that had just occurred between Jamie and Cersei.

Six other people were also currently sat around the room, all of them looking into smaller connected mirrors of their own as they monitored all of the listening and monitoring runes that had been placed throughout the Red Keep. Constantly on the lookout for conversations and interactions going on between certain people, people who were considered high priority, those being the Queen, the members of the Small Council, the Commander of the City Watch and a select number of nobles. These were the people of interest that Tracey had highlighted, the rest of the Red Keep and King's Landing could be monitored adequately by Baelish's former spy network. All of whom had been brought to Tracey, before being told that they could either sign a blood contract dedicating their loyalty to House Albion and their secrets or they would be killed. Drastic yes, but Harry had no tolerance for betrayal, and Tracey wasn't the most moral of people.

The whores of Baelish's establishment had been offered a similar deal, only their deal was based on either signing the contract or being kicked out onto the streets. All of them signed the magical blood contract. Which for the most part none of them regretted as Tracey was a much better manager than Baelish. She had no tolerance for abuse of her girls and those who broke the rules of her establishments often went missing. This had led to the girl's leading happier and safer lives. That is not to say everything was going perfectly, Cersei and a number of other members of court had tried to subvert one or two of her girls into betraying her.

Tracey's retaliation however had been enough to cease most of those attempts. After all even High Lord's have to keep their followers happy, which meant when Tracey banned all the soldiers of a certain House from entering her establishments, the Lord would often have to work quickly to change Tracey's mind. It was discriminatory and manipulative, yes... but this was not 20th Century Britain with all its laws and so she didn't particularly care.

Currently Tracey was sat in Baelish's former office, which now acted as the headquarters for House Albion's spy network, and at the moment she was concerned.

Looking back at the mirror, even as it now only showed the ongoing funeral rites for Jon Arryn, something she had no real interest in.

"Show me Harry Potter." Tracey said as she looked into the mirror.

The reflective surface of the mirror shimmered slightly, before it showed a new image, that of the inside of the Pyke, or more particularly the main chamber where the Order of the Dragon met up for meetings. The communication mirrors had been finished nearly ten months ago by the Weasley twins; they hadn't been perfected yet though. The twosome had not quite figured out how to make the mirrors hand held, or small enough to comfortably carry around with them, but they were still working on making such improvements.

Tracey sighed irritably as she looked into the meeting chamber in Pyke only to see that it was empty. Placing her hand on a silver ring that showed the sigil of House Albion, Tracey activated the Protean charm on it, notifying Harry that she was trying to communicate with him.

In response to her summons, Harry appeared in the council chamber with a slight cracking sound. Turning around a slightly tired looking Harry Potter smiled wearily at Tracey as he grabbed a seat and sat down in it so he wouldn't have to stand in front of the mirror.

"Hey Tracey what's up?" Harry asked as he settled into the chair.

"You look like shit." Tracey responded bluntly.

"Yeah tell me about it, James is being a real handful at the moment. The little monster won't stop using magic." Harry replied with a chuckle.

"Well it is called accidental magic for a reason you know." Tracey said in amusement. "Besides is it really that surprising that a son of yours is a handful. My gods I feel sorry for Daphne having to put up with the two of you."

"Funny." Harry replied in a deadpan. "So what's up? Daphne, Fleur and I were just about to go and visit Hagrid. Apparently the two dragons we brought with us have just given birth to a clutch of seven dragon eggs. Hagrid's got them in the fire and is monitoring them around the clock; we are not quite sure when they are going to hatch."

"It finally happened then." Tracey said a satisfied smile on her face. "It appears it isn't just the Centaurs, Goblins and humans that are going through a baby boom. Even the magical creatures are getting busy."

Harry laughed at that again, an easy smile on his face as he did so. "Yeah, we have already had to expand parts of all of the islands just to allow for us all too still co-exist. Luckily the Goblin's mostly live underground otherwise things would be getting quite cramped. Horny little bastards have nearly tripled their population in a year, who knew."

Tracey laughed again, a genuine smile on her face. It was nice to see this side of Harry, for too long she had only seen the harsh and commanding side of him. The side that had gathered the remnants of the magical world together, before he brought them to Westeros, where he had fought tough and nail to create a new home for his kind. The fact that he was now able to laugh more freely and enjoy life a bit more was a good sign, a good sign of how things were going on the Iron Islands.

It was almost a shame to ruin that by bringing the troubles of the mainland to his door.

"Look Harry we need to talk." Tracey began.

Harry's eyes instantly sharpened as he heard her tone. "What is it? Is everything alright, do you need me to send any more golem soldiers to you?"

"No, no. Things with me are fine. The brothels are making a healthy profit, the spy network is getting better every day and our influence at court is improving. Already we have been able to force a few new trade routes to be opened up between Westeros and Essos. Things with our faction are going well." Tracey said quickly.

"And what of the other factions? Are the Lannister still causing trouble? No doubt they are still a little pissed about us killing the Mountain and making an alliance with the Reach instead of them." Harry replied. Both of which he knew had pissed off the Lannisters thanks to their spy network. Luckily however Tywin Lannister had other issues at the moment that distracted him, issues surrounding his mines running dry of gold.

No doubt soon he will begin to feel the impact of this, what would happen then would be debatable. He could attack the Reach or the Iron Islands to try and get their wealth, but the military alliance between the two Houses would make that difficult. Harry doubted that he would take the risk; instead Harry believed that Tywin might start looking towards the Riverlands for a new source of income. Either way his mind was not fully focused on the House of Albion at the moment.

"The Lannister's are always trouble, luckily though they don't have magic. But that is not why I am calling." Tracey replied not too bothered about the threat the Lannister were, she had had a year to connect to the ley lines in this land and set her traps and create multiple currently inactive wards around the city. She was prepared for any hostile actions from them in King's Landing. "No, I am calling because Jon Arryn the Hand of the King has finally died and Cersei and Jamie Lannister were behind it."

"Did he find out about their incest?" Harry asked, he had been told that Jon Arryn was sick and had thought about helping the man. In the end he had decided not to, Jon Arryn had never been entirely trusting of Harry and his House, he had wanted their help in dealing with the Kingdom's debts and the corruption but had not wanted to give anything for it. Things weren't helped by Baelish, who had fled to Jon after Harry had bankrupted him; Jon had helped the man allowing him to keep his position of Master of Coin.

Harry had been tempted to just kill Baelish, but the little weasel was too useful to kill. Instead Harry allowed him to live, and go about his business, only now he was monitored and loosely controlled by Harry. Baelish was Harry's own mad dog, whether he knew it or not. But by doing that Harry had had to let him retain his freedom and mind, otherwise he would just be a drone. This meant Baelish had been able to whisper words of poison about Harry to Jon Arryn. As he said he was only loosely controlled.

"Yes and the Lannister's killed him for it. They are worried about who he might have told though. So I am going to make a few hints that I know, just to keep them on edge for now, but not quite reveal my hand that should keep them guessing. It appears though that Ned Stark is soon to be Hand of the King. The King will be travelling up to Winterfell soon." Tracey continued.

"Very well, I trust you with our affairs in the capital." Harry replied, trusting that Tracey knew what she was doing. "I will probably head to Winterfell then for when he arrives in a few months. For now though I have dragon eggs to go and try and hatch."

Tracey nodded at that. But before she let him go she had another thing to ask. "Why Harry?"

"Why what?" Harry replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Why do we play these games? We could become the rulers of Westeros with almost embarrassing ease. Why do we remain on the Iron Islands and only maintain our position? Why don't we rule this world?" Tracey questioned.

Harry sighed at that, before he gave Tracey a gentle smile. "Was it not wizards thinking that way that destroyed our old world?"

"Yes but that was different." Tracey replied.

"Is it? There is a small magical population in this world just as there was a small one in our world. There are also other magical forces besides us in this land as well. So just think, if we were to take over King's Landing. Doing so would show that we possess magic, the common folk would turn on us in an instant and we would be plunged into war again, we can't after all force an entire continent to sign magical contracts after all. And that is not counting the other magical forces in this world, our interference would be noticed and it is possible that they would retaliate, which again would lead to war and death..." Harry continued a calm expression on his face. "But even so that is not the reason for what we are doing. The reason is that we don't need to. We are currently happy on the Iron Islands, we are happy with our life here. But even so we are gradually extending our influence and power; if the time comes where we will need more land then we will be in a position to take it. But for now we are content and happy, why spoil that by dragging us into a war."

"So that is your reason." Tracey replied with a frown. "Contentment can lead to laziness and stagnation."

"It can yes. But it isn't, we are constantly expanding the islands, practicing our trades, improving our knowledge. We are progressing every day." Harry responded. He understood her concerns, he really did, but he also knew that it would not be well received if he decided to drag his people into war on a whim. They were still recovering from the last one after all, plus most of the wizards, witches, Centaurs and Goblins that he brought had new born children or dependents. So yes for the moment, Harry was content with securing the magical's position in this world. What happened after depended on what the Order wanted to do?

"Ok." Tracey acknowledged seeing Harry's logic. "But even so I am going to continue to spread our influence and power here on the mainland."

"And I encourage you to." Harry replied before a serious look crossed his face. "I do also believe that I will be coming to King's Landing soon to. Things there are progressing, and I think that it would be good if I take a closer look."

"If that is what you want." Tracey replied with a nod. "By the way, you might want to talk to some of the traders who have come back from Essos. I have been hearing some strange things surrounding the last Targaryen children. Apparently they are trying to arrange a meeting with a band of Dothraki Khals."

Harry frowned at that, before nodding his head in acknowledgement. "I will look into it; our influence in Essos is still limited. The last I heard they had taken up the faith of R'hllor. I will send someone to investigate immediately, that or I will go myself before I head to Winterfell."

"Whatever you think is necessary." Tracey said with a nod of her head, before another thought occurred to her. "By the way there has been a Dornish Nobleman asking after you. He has been frequenting my brothels a lot in the last few weeks and seems quite keen to meet both you and Neville."

"Neville?" Harry questioned in surprise, a thoughtful look on his face before a look of realization spread across his face. "Is it Oberyn Martell?"

Tracey nodded her head with a smile; Harry for all of his occasional bluntness was still an intelligent man. "Yes, as you no doubt have guessed, he wants to thank you and Neville for killing Gregor Clegane. Apparently the Dornish threw a festival when he died, one that went on for three days and nights. I think meeting with him would be to our advantage, he has influence with his brother the ruler of Dorne."

"Yes, I believe you are right. Coming to King's Landing will be necessary, at least to open up discussions for a possible alliance. Though going off the man's reputation, I doubt he will be all that helpful." Harry commented, before he raised an eyebrow as he saw the look of amusement on Tracey's face. "What is it?"

"Well going off what some of my girls and boys have said he is certainly good with his tongue. So who knows he could be very... convincing." Tracey replied with a grin.

Harry groaned at that. "You know sometimes I am glad you are in King's Landing. I often forget how much of a pain you can be."

"And speaking of convincing, I heard from Daphne that Fleur finally manage to convince her that a three-way relationship could be fun?" Tracey added on, a shit eating grin on her face as she decided to enjoy needling Harry while she had the chance.

"Good bye Tracey." Harry spoke quickly as he shut off his mirror, cutting the communication short.

 **( - )**

 **(A few minutes later with Harry)**

"So, what did Tracey want?" Daphne asked as soon as Harry reappeared. The blonde haired woman was currently sat with little James in one of the new gardens that had sprung up around Pyke. Neville it appeared had taken exception to the fact that there was so little green space on the Iron Islands, and had, along with the rest of the Herbology Guild created multiple beautiful gardens around the Iron Islands, as well as their green houses and agricultural fields.

Smiling down at his beautiful lover, who was by this point in time practically his wife in all but name Harry made to speak, but before he could reply he was interrupted by a sudden gurgle of delight. Looking down with a large smile now present on his face Harry saw his one year old son sitting on the grass a large toothless smile on his face as he clapped his hands excitedly as he looked up at Harry.

Bending down Harry scooped the boy into his arms a large grin on his face, as he laid a kiss on his brow. "And how are you James. Been being a good boy for mummy?"

The baby gurgled again before trying to reach out and grab Harry's face. Harry let out a low chuckle at that.

"I'll take that as a yes." Harry laughed before looking over to Daphne. "Tracey had an update from King's Landing. Apparently Jon Arryn has been murdered by the Lannisters and Robert is going North to make Ned Stark the next Hand."

Daphne nodded at that, not looking too perturbed by the situation. "We will be going to Winterfell for his visit I take it?"

"Yes, and then I will be following him back down to King's Landing." Harry replied with a nod. "Apparently Oberyn Martell has been hanging around Tracey's establishments and wants to meet with me and Nev, will probably call Nev down for the meeting but I think he will want to stay on in the Iron Island not in King's Landing

"You mean 'we' will be following him down to King's Landing and meeting with the Dornish Prince." Daphne corrected him.

"One of us needs to look after James and manage the Iron Islands." Harry replied suddenly nervously.

Daphne looked sharply at Harry at that. "And why should I be the one. I agree that James can't go; I wouldn't want him within a hundred miles of King's Landing especially with him still having a problem with accidental magic. But we can just ask one of the others to look after him. Neville just had his own daughter with Yara, I am sure it wouldn't massively inconvenience him and his wife to look after James. Besides we can take turns apparating back to check on him."

Harry couldn't refute that. "I suppose..."

"I take it Fleur will be coming with us as well, along with some golems. As for managing the Iron Islands, Blaise did an admirable job last time? I am sure he wouldn't mind doing it again." Daphne replied, the golem soldiers were now much improved, and also semi sentient, apparently George and Fred had managed to dig up a book explaining the enchantments that were placed on the suits of armour that used to inhabit Hogwarts.

Harry twitched at that; Blaise would not like that at all. But from the sounds of it he wouldn't have a chance. "Ok if that is what you want, I just thought you would want to stay behind. I mean this will be the first time you will have left James since he was born."

Daphne winced at that, she hadn't thought about that. Shaking her head she came to a decision. "I think I will manage, because as you said we can apparate back to the Pyke whenever we want."

"Within reason." Harry added, before expanding at Daphne's raised eyebrow. "We don't want to make people suspicious by constantly going missing."

Daphne nodded her acceptance at that. "So we are agreed, I will also send a raven to Highgarden inviting Margery and Olenna to join us in King's Landing."

Harry nodded at that, though less certain. "Are you sure that is wise. Margery is a sweet enough girl, but her grandmother..."

"Is a bitch?" Daphne said with a nod. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Yet still you want to invite them?" Harry asked. He did not have a huge amount to do with Olenna or Highgarden. Daphne, Fleur and the trade related Guilds mainly dealt with them. He had of course met her fool of a son Mace Tyrell when they had made their alliance, but for the most part Harry left the main dealings with them to the Daphne, Fleur and the different Guilds. He did after all have other things to think about than just foreign policy.

"Yes." Daphne nodded.

"Ok, you contact them and I will start laying preparations for our absence. I will also contact Hannah in Winterfell and tell her to warn the Stark's we are coming." Harry replied before he paused a thought occurring to him. "But there really isn't that much of a rush. Robert and his entourage will probably take months to get to Winterfell. Besides the Stark's probably haven't even been notified of Jon Arryn's death or King's visit."

"Ha!" Daphne snorted, as she too realised that. "You're right; there really is no need to rush."

With that in mind Harry sat on the floor, baby James still in his arms. Daphne smiled at that, before she took a seat next to him a soft smile on her face, that smile brightening even more as she noticed baby James had accidently turned his father's hair blue.

"So you ready to try and hatch some dragon eggs?" An oblivious Harry asked with a chuckle as he looked to both Daphne and James. "Fleur is already there and waiting for us."

Daphne gave him an excited grin and a laugh at that, even as James gurgled again before clapping his hands together in oblivious excitement.

 **( - )**

 **(Back in King's Landing with Tracey)**

Lord Petyr Baelish was not a happy man, especially not as he had just been summoned to one of his finest establishments, or what had once been his finest establishment. And didn't that still rankle; he did not know what had come over him to make the bet he had with Harry Albion. It had been stupid and careless and if there were two things he was not it was stupid and careless. No, there had been something else at work that night; he just did not know what.

Continuing on through the elegant rooms, Baelish had to hold back a sneer as he saw the whores of this establishment looking down at him in amusement. They too, had been his property and now they dared to mock him, to look down on him. He would have his revenge, he would make those little bitches suffer before he killed them, and as for the House of Albion. By the time he was done he would grind them into the dust.

He had not been idle this past year after all, far from it. Thanks to the protection and support from Jon Arryn he had managed to keep his position as Master of Coin. This had allowed him to embezzle even more money than before increasing his wealth and allowing him to slowly rebuild his network. He had tried reclaiming his old one, but they all refused his summons, they too would suffer. In order to get this wealth though he had left the realm in more debt than ever before, nine million dragon's debt, almost four million of it was to the Lannisters with the other five million gold dragons being owed to the Iron Bank of Bravoos. Not that he cared, after all Albion might have derailed his plan, but he had not stopped it.

Pushing these venomous thoughts away Petyr composed himself, a charming smile now crossing his face as he was led to the room in which the new manager of his empire was waiting. That bitch would die horribly as well.

"Lady Albion." Baelish said suavely as he entered the room, a charming smile on his face as he gave a short bow to the pretty dark haired woman who stood waiting within the room. His cold grey eyes trailing up the woman's lithe figure appreciatively like a trader would inspect his merchandise. Before he met her intelligent and sharp gaze, a gaze which he held as he came to confidently stand before her.

"Ahh Littlefinger you obeyed my summons." Tracey replied, her lips twitching in amusement as she saw Baelish tense at the nickname she used.

"Why of course, you had me intrigued." Petyr replied, pushing his anger back with practiced ease. "So how may I help you my Lady?"

Once again Tracey smirked in amusement. "Why I called you here to help me solve a little problem I have been having."

"A problem?" Baelish questioned, his eyes narrowing as he thought about the ways in which this could help him.

"Why yes, you see I have a bit of a problem with Harry." Tracey said with a nonchalant shrug.

"You have a problem with Lord Albion?" Baelish said his eyes gleaming with interest.

"Well yes." Tracey began as she turned to a table near her hand began to pour herself a glass of wine, not bothering to offer one to her guest. "You see Harry, he is a great man, he is intelligent, brave and when necessary ruthless. Overall he is a great leader... in times of war. In times of peace, well he is still a good leader but he does make mistakes."

"Mistakes?" Baelish pushed, not really that bothered by Tracey's snubbing him by not offering wine.

"Yes, you see when he stripped you of everything you own, I suggested that he should also either kill you or strip you of your freedom." Tracey began, her eyes twinkling slightly as the greed in Littlefinger's eyes disappeared only to be replaced by apprehension."He of course refused, he thought that it would be more useful to allow you to go free and do what you do best lie, cheat and manipulate. Harry planned to then use you as a weapon to hurt our enemies."

Petyr's eyes widened at that, even as he was suddenly filled with rage. The foolish Lord Albion thought he could control and manipulate him. No, he was the one who did the controlling and manipulating, no one else.

"Well I can see his reasoning, but I don't exactly agree with it. Which is where we reach the problem, Harry is fallible, and he can make mistakes just like he did with you. This is why I summoned you here, so I can correct one of his mistakes." Tracey continued as she took another sip of her wine.

Baelish's eyes widened even as he became aware that two of the hulking armoured brutes that seemed to make up the Albion guardsmen were in the room. Turning back to Tracey he began to feel very nervous.

"You know what I find amusing about people like you." Tracey said as she looked at Littlefinger like a cat would a mouse. "It's that you think that your words and manipulations are the be all and end all. You think as long as you have some money and a few clever words you will always win. If you think about it, that's just pure arrogance."

Tracey nodded her head, in response the two armoured golems behind Baelish began to move towards him.

"Wait Lady Albi..." Baelish began as he raised his hands beseechingly, only to suddenly find out he could no longer talk. His mouth moved but no words came out, he had been silenced.

"I think that is enough out of you Littlefinger." Tracey said calmly, as the two golems grabbed the struggling man before they forced him to his knees.

Petyr Baelish could only soundlessly shout at Tracey as she approached him, his arrogance and confidence gone, stripped away by fear.

"You see Littlefinger there are something's you can't lie, buy off or manipulate your way out of. Sometimes in the end, true power is in fact just pure power." Tracey continued speaking, her palm beginning to glow as she raised it and placed the glowing palm on Petyr Baelish's sweating forehead.

"But that's enough out of me; it is time for me to start fixing Harry's mistake. Don't worry you will still be alive and it won't hurt much, I will just be remoulding your mind to my benefit." Tracey said with a gentle smile down at the struggling and terrified Lord Baelish.

"Imperio."

 **( - )**

 **AN: SO yeah that just happened. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I found myself inspired after having just watched the third episode of season seven. Can I just say holy shit that was an amazing episode.**

 **Right about this chapter I know it raises a few questions and gives a brief overview about what had happened in the last year. This will be fleshed out a bit more as the plot progresses. The reason I did this was so the story would not stagnate and so I could push it forwards. Anyway as you can see some events from canon will still go ahead whilst others will not or will be drastically changed by the presence of Harry and his group.**

 **Speaking of which Harry and his group will only interfere when it benefits them, I think after the things they had gone through that it would be somewhat understandable that they have a somewhat mercenary attitude. Meaning that they won't save everyone because let's be honest why would they care?**

 **Next chapter will cover bits and pieces in Winterfell, a few things in Essos and flesh out a bit more of what has happened over the last year.**

 **So you have that to look forward to, so yeah everyone please leave a comment or a review as they are all very useful when it comes to writing the next chapter, and more often than not I add in several ideas or thoughts that you my readers share with me.**

 **On another quick note, I was wondering whether anyone would be willing to beta my past chapters as I have had a few comments on how I have missed a few mistakes and would appreciate any help people are willing to give.**

 **See you all next time.**

 **Seagate.**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Hello again readers hope you are well. Had a pretty quick update this time, which I have to thank all you for as the response to the last chapter added onto my excitement over season seven of Game of Thrones has really got me in the mood to write this story.**

 **Before we begin I would just like to announce that I have a beta now, Foxmac. Who I am very appreciative to for taking the time to look through my chapters and help me improve them.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

 **( - )**

 **Previously . . .**

 _Baelish's eyes widened even as he became aware that two of the hulking armored brutes that seemed to make up the Albion guardsmen were in the room. Turning back to Tracey, he began to feel very nervous._

" _You know what I find amusing about people like you," Tracey said as she looked at Littlefinger like a cat would a mouse. "It's that your words and manipulations are the be-all and end-all. You think as long as you have some money and a few clever words you will always win. If you think about it, that's just pure arrogance."_

 _Tracey nodded her head, and in response, the two armored golems behind Baelish began to move towards him._

" _Wait, Lady Albi-" Baelish began as he raised his hands beseechingly, only to suddenly find that he could no longer talk. His mouth moved but no words came out._

" _I think that's enough out of you, Littlefinger," Tracey said calmly, as the two golems grabbed the struggling man before they forced him to his knees._

 _Baelish could only soundlessly shout at Tracey as she approached him, his arrogance and confidence gone, stripped away by fear._

" _You see, Littlefinger, there are some things you can't lie, buy off, or manipulate your way out of. Sometimes, in the end, true power is just pure power," Tracey continued, her palm beginning to glow as she raised and placed it on Baelish's sweating forehead._

" _But that's enough out of me. It's time for me to start fixing Harry's mistake. Don't worry, you will still be alive and it won't hurt much. I'll just be remoulding your mind to my benefit," Tracey said with a gentle smile down at the struggling and terrified Lord Baelish._

" _Imperio."_

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 15**

 **( - )**

 **(In Winterfell)**

Slowly pushing herself up out of her bed, Hannah Abbott shivered slightly as the heavy fur blankets fell off her body, leaving her form naked to the cold air of the North. Quickly leaping out of bed, Hannah fumbled around on her large wooden desk as she looked for her wand. Upon finding it, she cast a quick warming charm on herself to stave off the worst of the chill. With that done, she turned back around a slight smile on her face as she saw the unconscious body of Robb Stark still asleep under the covers of her bed. The young wolf had been courting Hannah for nearly a year now, though she had only begun reciprocating a few months ago, after all, she didn't want to make it too easy. He was a nice boy she had to admit, at only seventeen, he was eight years her junior and ever so eager to please her and didn't that just stroke her ego. Hannah had no complaints about the age difference; he was very enthusiastic, eager to learn and easily trained.

It helped matters too, that Robb had made her his betrothed several months ago. Despite his mother, Catelyn's, reluctance on the matter, Ned had grudgingly accepted his son's choice in a bride. No doubt Ned approved that his son was with a "nice Northern lass" and one who was from a powerful and up and coming House like the Albions. Harry too had been pleased when she had told him, both because she had managed to advance the magicals' influence in the North and because Hannah had found some happiness, which she did. Robb may be young and uncultured by Hannah's standards but he had a good heart and truly loved her. This was something she appreciated and led to her developing a growing affection for the younger man.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Hannah instead focused on what was going to happen today. The king's party was only two days out from Winterfell and Harry and his retinue had informed her that they would be portkeying to a place nearby before riding the rest of the way today. Suffice it to say, a lot was happening in a very short time.

When Hannah had first heard from Lord Stark that his old friend, Lord Jon Arryn, had died and that the king was coming to the North, she had been surprised especially when it became apparent to her that the king was coming to offer Lord Stark the position of Hand of the King. The fact that he was offering Lord Stark the position didn't surprise her as he was an honorable, if slightly, stiff and stoic man. No, what surprised her was that the King of the Seven Kingdoms was going to spend three months coming up to Winterfell just to ask Lord Stark to be Hand of the King before he spent another three months traveling back to King's Landing. That was a wasted six months that the king could have used to actually rule the Seven Kingdoms. If he had sent Lord Stark a raven informing him of his offer, then Lord Stark could have ridden down with his guards to King's Landing in under a month. The sheer idiocy of it had taken her aback, but she had not shown that. Instead, she had dutifully informed Harry of what was happening.

Harry, though, had already known and had several plans for what to do already, including him visiting Winterfell for the first time in ten months. The last time he had been here, he had offered to take over the maintenance costs of White Harbour, a port on the eastern coast of the North, in return for being allowed to use it as a trading port. Ned had accepted his offer, as did had Wyman Manderly, the Lord of House Manderly, who owned White Harbour. And why wouldn't they as both of Lords benefited from the taxes on trading, and with the Iron Islands now being the most prolific traders in Westeros, well, they both were more than happy to benefit from the boom in trade Harry's actions would cause.

That had been ten months ago. The port at White Harbour had been expanded in size to the point in which it was ten times the size it was, with a fleet of thirty Iron Islander ships using it as a trading port. Shipping Iron Islander food, armor, weapons, potions, and jewelry, as well as whatever else the Guilds on the Iron Islands had churned out over to Essos and along the eastern coast of Westeros. The profit from this venture had been used to create more Iron Islander ships, as well as establish dozens more fortified trading posts along the northern Westeros coast.

The economic prosperity had not just helped the Iron Islands though. Ned had used the increased coffers he received from taxation on trading to renovate Winterfell, repairing the damaged towers and crumbling walls, bringing them back to the strength they were when they were first built. He had also arranged for Moat Callin and Deepwood Motte to begin restoration of their defenses, contracting a number of Iron Islander workers to assist at Hannah's suggestion. Most of these workers were actual mundanes who had found themselves out of work due to the uses of magic making things like farming and fishing easier. And since Harry no longer wanted a standing army of Ironborn Reavers as he did after all have an army of semi-sentient golems instead.

Harry when discussing the issue with the Order had likened what was happening to what had previously happened during the British Industrial Revolution. Except instead of machines putting men out of work, magic did. Using this as an example and taking into account the antisocial behavior, crime, and poverty that was caused by this in Britain, Harry had contacted Hannah and had arranged for the out-of-work men and women to be found work on the mainland. The results were that the Iron Islanders who did not work on the trading ships, fields, or mines, now worked as construction crews around the North.

This kept the men and women busy, gave them useful skills, and paid them a fair wage which was then put back into the Northern economy by the men and women when then spent their wages on food, ale, or whatever else they wanted. The wages had been so fair that a number of other smallfolk around the North had wanted in on it. They had been accepted, of course, after having been given a blood contract of the standard Iron Islander contract of the ensurance of a person's absolute loyalty to House Albion, their silence on the use of magic, and the removal of the signers' fear or apprehension about magic to sign.

Shaking her head, Hannah pushed these thoughts away as she instead focused on what she needed to do today. She needed to forward several of the Northern Lord's requests for monetary loans to the goblins back on the Iron Islands. She then needed to contact Michael and drag him away from whatever dusty book the damn Ravenclaw had his nose in. After that, she needed to assist Catelyn Stark with the preparations for the arrival of Harry and the king. The woman may not approve of her as a match for Robb, but she certainly appreciated Hannah's assistance when she offered it.

Flicking her wand, Hannah summoned a beautiful blue dress from her wardrobe. It was a finely woven blue dress, one of the many dresses she owned that was the envy of the Northern ladies. Often she was asked where she got them; her reply was always that she had made it herself. What she didn't tell them was that it was made with a liberal use of household magic, something most wizards and witches learned in Hogwarts during their first and second years: simple spells that were of use in later life.

Another flick of her wand later had the dress flowing onto her body like water, the lace bodice closing around her thin frame. Conjuring a mirror, Hannah checked her reflection, making sure she looked perfect for the day ahead. A part of this was her vanity as she had always liked the way she looked even when she had been an insecure teenager. She had been very happy that she had managed to make it through the bloody war in Britain with her looks still intact, save for a few scars on her arms and legs, things that were easily covered. If she had been disfigured though, she would have certainly been upset, but she would have been happier that she had been able to live through it at all. Her keeping her looks was just a bonus. Another part was that as a woman in a world run by men, she needed to use every tool to her advantage to keep her authority, which included using her looks to put men off guard.

"I love it when you do that," a gruff sleepy voice spoke up behind her.

Turning around with a smirk, Hannah looked down at a bleary-eyed Robb Stark in amusement. "I know you do."

"Have you thought any more about teaching me?" Robb asked as he began to push himself up and out of bed.

Hannah's eyes trailed down his fit athletic body as he did this, the slightest of smiles still playing around her lips as she did so. "Not really," she replied.

"Why not?" Robb whined as he woke up properly, his eyes fixed on his betrothed. It had been a few months since she had revealed her magic to him, and he still found it incredible that she could literally manipulate the world to suit her needs. He had, of course, asked that she teach him. Thus, far, however, she had refused. "I mean I signed that secrecy contract of yours and you know you can trust me."

"Yes," Hannah replied with a smile as she approached the bed, before laying a chaste kiss on Robb's lips. "I can trust you, but the fact is you don't possess enough magic in your body to learn how to use it like me."

"But we can try," Robb whined again as he looked up at his older lover beseechingly.

"We can," Hannah offered a smile still on her face. "But not now."

Robb recognized that for what it was, it was Hannah telling him she would speak no more about it today, and he knew better than to push. The smaller woman might look delicate and gentle, but looks were deceiving, and she could be terrifying when angered. It was one of the many reasons he loved her as, she did not conform to how most people wanted to see women: quiet and obedient. Instead, she was the complete opposite. She was strong, determined, independent, stubborn and scarily intelligent, which entranced Robb.

Theon might mock him for willingly settling down so soon and with a woman who was well past marrying age. But he didn't care, in his mind you could take all the serving wenches and whores Theon had paid to bed and all of them together were worth barely a fraction of what Hannah was worth.

"Now get up," Hannah said as she slipped her wand up the sleeve of her dress, slotting it into a cloth holster she had sewn into the dress. "Lord Harry is coming today and I want you to make a good impression."

That made Robb nervous. When Hannah had revealed her magic she had also told him bits and pieces about herself and her people. She had told him they were foreigners to this land from across the sea, that they were refugees from a deadly and terrifying war, and, finally, she had told him about how an order of their strongest and most powerful members led the survivors, the Order of the Dragon, as well as how Lord Harry Albion was the most powerful and most deadly of the lot. She hadn't told him a lot, but what she had, had been enough to make him very wary around Lord Harry. Robb both respected him for his supposed power and authority and was very nervous about meeting a man who Hannah named the most deadly of her people.

"When will he be arriving?" Robb asked the slightest hint of nervousness creeping into his voice.

"He will be coming at midday: Harry, Daphne, Fleur and a platoon of soldiers," Hannah answered with a smile. She had heard the nervousness in Robb's voice and found it cute. "Be respectful and he will like you. Don't ogle Daphne or Fleur though, as he will not appreciate that. But other than that you will be fine."

"Does he know?" Robb asked as he got out of bed before he began searching around for his clothing.

"About me telling you?" Hannah said, before continuing when she saw Robb nod. "Yes, he knows about that, but he also knows that you willingly signed the contract. So you have nothing to worry about. If you hadn't, well, then you still wouldn't have anything to worry about it as I probably would have just removed your memories of me revealing it to you."

The young Stark gulped at that due to fact that she so casually said things like that, that Robb knew not to push her. She could be truly terrifying sometimes.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

Harry grunted irritably to himself as he rode his horse through the gates of Winterfell. He still didn't like riding a horse as he never usually rode one. He mainly apparated, walked, or flew in his animagus form. It was probably because he didn't have a huge amount of experience riding a horse that he was feeling quite uncomfortable as he bounced up and down in the saddle with a part of him blaming his discomfort on the poorly maintained roads in Winterfell. In contrast, Daphne and Fleur rode their horses with annoying easy and embarrassing grace.

Noting to himself that he needed to get himself used to ride horses, especially if he didn't want to embarrass himself on the ride down to King's Landing. Harry looked on ahead as they passed through the main entrance of the keep and into the castle courtyard. There stood, in the courtyard, to welcome him was the stoic Lord Stark; his wife; his eldest son and heir, who was standing beside Hannah; the irritated looking Michael Corner, who seemed to not be paying attention to Harry's arrival and instead looked to be having a debate with Maester Luwin about something or other; and, finally, there was the scowling Theon Greyjoy and the rest of Lord Stark's children all of whom were lined up to receive the visiting lord.

Upon entering the courtyard, Harry swung himself off his horse the first chance he got, giving the reins over to the hulking stable boy, Hodor, with a nod of thanks before he approached Lord Stark. Daphne and Fleur also dismounted, much more elegantly than him, before they to handed their reins to the other stable boys, each of whom seemed to fight over who got to take the horses.

Behind the three of them, marched ten Iron Islander guardsmen with the livery of House Albion over their mail. Just behind them, marched twenty fully armored golems. Harry had brought the guardsmen with him as a form of distraction from the silence of his golems. They may be semi-sentient now but they were still not capable of proper speech. Although from what he had heard from Fred and George, the two maniacs were working on that.

"Lord Stark!" Harry called out with a grin as he approached the dour looking Lord, his hand outstretched to greet the Warden of the North as he did so.

The two clasped hands as Ned nodded his head slightly to Harry before saying. "Welcome to Winterfell again, Lord Albion."

"It's good to be back," Harry said with a chuckle as he looked around, taking note of the improved masonry. "The place is looking great; you can tell you have been making improvements."

"Thank you, Lord Albion, and how do the Iron Islands fair?" Ned asked giving Harry a slight nod of appreciation for commenting on the improvements.

"It's still cold and windy, but we make do," Harry said with a casual shrug before he turned his attention to the other people waiting in the courtyard. "Lady Stark, looking as beautiful as ever," Harry said with a bow to the woman.

"Lord Albion," Catelyn greeted as she extended her hand, allowing Harry to lay a chaste kiss upon it before she took it away from him. Her eyes instead coming to rest on her friend Daphne and the breathtakingly beautiful woman next to her. If she were to look around the courtyard she would have also noticed that the majority of the men in the courtyard were also staring at the two women. Daphne because she was a strikingly beautiful woman both in the way she carried herself and in her appearance. Fleur, however, seemed to just radiate desire, attracting the attention of nearly every hot-blooded man within fifty feet, even Lord Stark was having trouble not staring.

If Fleur was bothered by the attention she didn't show it, neither did Daphne as they both approached Lord Stark, allowing the man to kiss their knuckles in greeting.

Harry, too, wasn't especially bothered by their attention. He was not so insecure as to lash out if people stare a bit. Instead, he continued on down the line greeting Robb Stark, who surprisingly was not looking at either woman and instead was staring at Harry. Reaching out his hand Harry greeted the boy with a firm handshake.

"Young Stark," Harry said with a smile. "I have heard you are to be a member of my household?"

"Er, yes, Lord Albion," Robb replied nervously his eyes darting to an amused Hannah before back to Harry.

"Then you have my congratulations," Harry said with a nod before he turned to greet Hannah, giving her a quick hug. "Nice to see you again, Hannah."

"You too, Harry," Hannah replied with a smile before Daphne and Fleur approached, seeing them, a large smile spread across her face as she dragged Robb behind her to greet the two women, both of whom were currently talking to Lady Stark.

Chuckling to himself at that, Harry passed Theon without comment as the boy stared at Fleur with glazed vacant eyes, instead he greeted Michael Corner. "Michael, good to see you again."

Michael looked up at that as if just noticing Harry, with a nod of his head before he shook Harry's hand and muttered, "You too, Harry. I have so much to tell you. I've been reading through Maester Luwin's library and have found a few interesting books on things beyond the Wall."

"Which I have told him is nothing more than fairy tales told to young children," Maester Luwin interrupted.

"To which I replied, even the most fantastic of fairy tales have at least some basis in fact," Michael replied as he looked back at Luwin a scowl on his face.

"A completely absurd statement to make, and would be laughed out of the Citadel if it was stated there," Luwin replied fiercely before the two of them began to argue again.

Harry nodded absently at that, noting to himself as he did so that he should speak to Michael about what he had found out later. But for now, though he greeted the children: Bran, the second son, looked up at him in awe and gave the boy a pat on the head; Sansa gave him a slight curtsy, which he greeted with a slight bow; Rickon just looked shyly up at him; and Arya looked fascinated with him as he greeted her, her eyes fixed on the rapier-like Sword of Gryffindor sheathed at his side.

"Where did you get that sword?" Arya asked bluntly as she stared at the sword, only to get scolded by Septa Mordane for being rude a few moments later.

"I picked it up on my travels, little lady," Harry replied absentmindedly, not really paying the girl much attention as he gave the bastard of Winterfell, Jon Snow, a token nod before he turned and once again approached Lord Stark.

"So, Lord Stark," Harry called out as he approached Eddard. "I hear the king is coming tomorrow."

Eddard nodded at that. "Aye, he should be coming sometime during the day. We have been preparing for weeks. I take it that is the reason for your visit?"

"Why, of course, Lord Stark," Harry replied with a grin. "The king does not often come North. I thought it would be rude of me not to greet him."

Eddard Stark hummed at that, a suspicious part of him knowing that that was not the full truth behind Harry's presence.

 **( - )**

It was during the late morning the next day that the king and the royal caravan entered the courtyard of Winterfell with Jamie Lannister and two other members of the Kingsguard at the front of the procession. The Crown Prince, Joffrey, following behind them with a slight smirk on his face as he looked around the rustic keep before his eyes fixed on the young Sansa Stark, who was more than happy to return his smirk with a soft smile of her own. The next person to ride in was a large hulking man with a snarling dog-shaped helmet on his head. He opened it maw, revealing himself to be the Crown Prince's Sworn Shield, Sandor Clegane, also known as the Hound. Following along behind him was the large and bulky royal carriage with King Robert following closely along behind that, the rest of the Kingsguard at his back.

As he entered the courtyard, everyone knelt as Robert rode up to them, even the waiting Harry, Daphne, and Fleur bent the knee. Appearances had to be maintained after all. As he came to a halt before the assembled crowd, a squire brought over a stool to help Robert off his horse. Robert nodded gruffly at the boy before he walked over to the kneeling Ned Stark, sparing a glance at Harry as he did so before focusing back on Ned. Coming to a stop in front of Eddard, he motioned for the Warden of the North to stand up along with everyone else in the courtyard. Everyone did as Robert commanded, even as the king continued to give his old friend a curious look.

"Your Grace," Ned said, as he solemnly bowed his head low.

"You got fat," Robert said tersely in reply, taking everyone in the courtyard aback as he did so, even Harry had not been expecting that. Neither it appeared had Ned, though it did not seem to perturb him as he instead looked at Robert's belly with a raised eyebrow, an action that made the king let out a bark of laughter before he dragged the Lord of House Stark into a hug.

All the while Harry looked on at this with a bemused look on his face. Eddard Stark was smiling; he had not expected that such a thing was possible.

"Cat!" Robert said in greeting as he released Eddard before he turned to the man's wife, a large grin on his fleshy face as he took her proffered hand and laid a wet kiss on it. "Nine years, why have I not seen you? Where the hell have you been?" Robert asked as he turned away from Catelyn and once again looked to Ned.

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is always yours," Lord Stark replied seriously to Robert.

Robert nodded at that before he began to greet the rest of Ned's children. As this was going on, the queen, Cersei Lannister, stepped down from her carriage. Her eyes trailed over the assembled Northerners, briefly meeting Eddard's gaze as she approached him, allowing him to kiss her knuckles as he greeted her.

"Lord Stark," Cersei said briefly before her sharp gaze came to rest on Harry and his companions, her lip curling slightly in distaste as she did so.

Robert too decided to take that moment to greet Harry. "Albion!" the king said loudly, a smile on his jowly face as he lumbered towards the now standing Harry. "Damn good to see you. Not seen you since your cousin - Neville, was it? - sliced the damn Mountain in two. Haven't seen a fight like that since we were gutting the Greyjoy's during their stupid rebellion back on Pyke."

"It is an honor to see you as well, Your Grace," Harry replied not at all offended by Robert's words, though the young Greyjoy seemed to be not too pleased with them. "I have heard from Tracey that you are doing well, and I am glad to see that she spoke true."

Robert laughed loudly at that before he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Damn good girl you got there, Albion, and much better looking than that little rat Baelish! Just a pity she doesn't have any of her establishments up here in the North!"

"Who knows?" Harry said lightly. "She is just getting started."

Robert laughed again loudly at that, even as he turned his gaze away from Harry and instead looked to both Daphne and Fleur. Harry, meanwhile ,glanced up to see the disapproving look on Eddard's face at his words, not that he particularly cared.

"My gods, where did you find this pair of beauties, Albion?" Robert said loudly as he first greeted Daphne and then Fleur, practically drooling on Fleur's hand as he greeted her, much to the Veela's obvious discomfort.

"On my travels, I met many interesting and talented people. Lady Daphne and Lady Fleur were two of such people. Both of them are prominent members of House of Albion, your Grace," Harry replied with forced calm, as he saw the look of lust in Robert's eyes. Most of the time he could shrug it off, but most of the time people weren't as obvious as Robert or as daring.

"Your Grace," Daphne said with a gentle smile and a perfect courtly curtsy. "It truly is an honor to meet you."

"Yes," Fleur said in much improved yet still slightly accented English, her face barely holding back her contempt for the fat king as he stared at her. "A true . . . 'onor."

Robert, it appeared, didn't notice this.

Taking his eyes off the less than pleasant sight, Harry instead looked to the queen. Giving her a slight bow, he greeted her, "My Queen."

"Lord Albion," Cersei replied coldly, her emerald green eyes meeting Harry's own twinkling green eyes, taking note as she did so of the flecks of red in them. She also couldn't help but feel as if the man could see into her soul and was assessing her as she met his gaze. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. "How unexpected, to see the Lord of the Iron Islands here in Winterfell. You are a long way from home?"

Harry smiled genially back at that, knowing as he did so that acting pleasantly in the face of her hostility would piss the woman off more than if he had been rude. He replied, "Well, when I heard that the king was coming to visit, I thought it would be appropriate to be here to greet him. After all, it is not often that the King of the Seven Kingdom comes up to the dreary North."

"How thoughtful," Cersei replied calmly before she looked over her shoulder to see Robert still fawning over Fleur and Daphne. Her features tightened at that, even as her eyes flashed with anger.

As if sensing his wife's gaze, Robert looked up to meet Cersei's eyes. Coughing gruffly to himself, he looked over to the still waiting Ned, saying, "Come on, then, Ned. Take me to your crypts. I want to pay my respects."

"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait," Cersei spoke up, only for the king to brush off her comments as he walked away.

"Ned!" Robert ordered as Eddard apologetically turned to the queen. With a nod of his head to Cersei, he followed Robert.

As the two left, Harry turned to Daphne, the two of them sharing a knowing look, as they watched confirmation of the king and queen's less than amicable relationship. Walking over to the two of them Harry muttered, "I don't think it's worth trying to get close to the queen. I have looked into her mind and her thoughts show nothing but hatred for us."

"I had guessed as much," Daphne replied blandly as she looked to the queen, who was currently in conversation with her brother, Jamie, asking him about where her other brother Tyrion was. "I assume Robert has taken Stark down to the crypts to offer him the position of Hand as well as to pay his respects to Lyanna Stark."

"Yes," Harry replied as he too looked over to the royal procession, noting as he did that the Crown Prince had approached Sansa Stark smile on his face, with the Hound walking behind him. "Plus, from what I saw in Cersei's mind, Robert also has it in his head that it would be a good idea to betroth Joffrey and Sansa."

"The poor girl," Fleur spoke up as she looked sadly over at the blushing girl, even as she traded polite words with the prince. "That boy will destroy her."

"A boy?" Harry questioned a bemused expression on his face. "Monster would be a better word for him."

"Well, that monster as you call him is your future king," Daphne spoke up as she looked to Harry.

"Over his dead body," Harry chuckled as he continued to inspect and assess the royal family.

 **( - )**

Later that evening, the festivities in the great hall of Winterfell were at an all time high as wine and ale were drunken by rowdy northerners and the King's party. Mounds of food were also served as music rang out through the noisy hall. Currently, Harry was sitting alongside Robert at the high table, with Ned on the king's other side. The queen had been seated to the other side of Ned, where she was currently engaging Catelyn in polite, if slightly stilted, conversation. Daphne and Fleur were even further down the table, sitting with Robb and Hannah. Judging by the red face of the Stark heir, the topic of conversation was likely to be highly embarrassing for the young wolf.

Turning to Robert, Harry decided to engage the king in conversation before he wandered off to chase some serving wench. "So, Robert, how is the family? It has been many months since I last met Renly or Stannis."

Robert looked surprised at that line of conversation, his eyebrows raised as if he was surprised that Harry deemed Renly and Stannis to be his family. Shaking his surprise off Robert replied, "Renly is still prancing around like a little girl. He spends most of his time in Highgarden now, but he occasionally comes to King's Landing. Have to say the little shit has got a real hard on for you Albions. He's always going on about things he has gotten from your traders. I blame the Tyrells as they have turned my little brother soft."

Harry looked pleasantly surprised at that as he did not have much to do with Renly. Though, he had heard from Daphne that Renly was often in Highgarden. He had not known that he had "a hard on" for all things Albion though. But if what Robert said about his fondness for all things Albion was true and taking account of his connections to the Tyrells, such a thing could be very useful in the future.

Taking note of that, Harry decided to press Robert further. He had heard Stannis had left King's Landing several months ago and was not responding to any attempts to contact him. When he had heard this, Harry had an idea. "What of Stannis?"

"That little shit!" Robert grumbled as he took a swig of his ale. "He's apparently shacked up with some fire worshiping Red Priestess on Dragonstone. Good riddance to him as well. He was always a humorless turd!"

Harry was surprised by that as he had not thought that Stannis would find religion. He certainly had not thought he would get sucked into some prophetic fire worshiping cult, one which according to what he had heard, was capable of magic. It was concerning, especially since it coincided with the two remaining Targaryens, who had also been taken under the wing of some Red Priestess in Essos. He had sent Dean Thomas out to find out more and what he had been told so far was not good. The woman, Clementine, was capable of powerful magic and had already ensnared the two Targaryens. Even now, she was manipulating them to do as she wished. The fact that one was here in Westeros, doing the same with Stannis was not good. The last thing he wanted was a potentially hostile magical force hanging around Westeros.

"So he has abandoned you and his position on the Small Council after you honored him by giving it to him," Harry said as he pushed away his concerns worries for later.

"The little shit never deserved any honor in the first place. Did you know he let those fucking dragon-spawn escape him!" Robert said angrily.

"A disgrace," Harry said agreeably. "Though, I suppose that leaves your Small Council one member short. Ned will no doubt have a hard task without the full Council there to support him."

Robert nodded at that before a thoughtful look crossed his pudgy face. "You know what, Albion? You've given me an idea. You should be the Master of Ships!"

"Me, Your Grace?" Harry questioned, though the slightest of smiles could be seen passing across his face. "You honor me."

"No," Robert said with a serious look on his face. "You are a good man, Albion. Better than most of the pampered little shits at court. It'll be good to have you around. Plus, I think I'll need all the help I can get."

"Your Grace?" Harry questioned quite taken aback by the King's sudden bout of seriousness.

"My son's," Robert said as he looked over to where Joffrey and Tommen were sitting further down the table. "They're both weak, both of them still cling to their mother's skirts like frightened whelps. It's my own fault really. I was never much of a father and you can tell by how they turned out. They're both weak. Wastes of seed," Robert spat scornfully as he looked at the sniveling disappointments both his sons had become in his eyes.

Tommen was weak and boy would rather cry and run to his mother than face a problem head on. And Joffrey, the less said about that twisted shit the better.

Looking back up at a surprised Harry and taking note Ned was now listening in, Robert continued, "My sons are weak, but even so they are my sons. Joffrey is to rule after I am dead and I would rather he had men like the two of you around to make sure he doesn't grind this kingdom into the ground. I mean I'm not a great king, that much I know. But even so, I love this kingdom and don't want to see it destroyed by my son's weakness."

Harry blinked at that, he was honestly not aware Robert was capable of thinking about anything other than himself. It caused Harry to begin to re-evaluate his opinion on the man.

"Now I don't know about you two but I am going to have a piss, then find me a nice wench to shag!" Robert said loudly as he stood up.

'On the other hand,' Harry thought as he saw the rotund king waddle away.

"So you are to be the new Master of Ships," Ned said neutrally, pulling Harry's attention back to him.

"So it would appear," Harry replied absentmindedly.

"It will be good," Ned began, a thoughtful expression on his usually dour face, "to have a familiar face around in King's Landing."

"I look forward to working with you . . . Lord Hand," Harry replied a smile back on his face, even as he thought back to what he had found out this evening.

 **( - )**

 **(In Essos)**

"Lady Clementine,." Illyrio Mopatis said as he approached the blonde-haired Red Priestess, who at that moment was standing on his palace's the main balcony, looking out over the Free City of Pentos with an indecipherable look in her eyes.

Hearing the man's call, Clementine turned around, her pink eyes gleaming slightly as she focused in on her host. Illyrio was a fat, corpulent, wretched man and no amount of fine silks or perfumes could cover that up. She had recognized that the fear and insecurity in him, hidden behind his veneer of arrogance. Upon seeing this, she had easily manipulated and controlled the man. To be frank, it was embarrassing just how easy the man was to manipulate.

"What is it you want, Illyrio?" Clementine asked as she strode into her room from the balcony. The room had once been Illyrio's, but upon seeing how much larger and nicer it was, well, Clementine had decided to take it for herself. Just as she had decided to take the man's house, his servants, even his well paid mistresses to be hers. They all belonged to her now and both of them knew it.

"The Dothraki Khals have arrived, my lady," Illyrio said anxiously, his hands wringing together nervously as the beautiful yet dangerous woman prowled towards him. The woman terrified Illyrio, and for good reason too. After all, she could wield magic. He had seen her do it and do things he had only heard of in legend. More than that, he had seen her use it on people.

A month after her arrival, when she had ordered him to bring her a human sacrifice from the prison in Pentos, he had, of course, done it as he had thought he was the one still in control. He had thought he was only humoring her and that the reward would be worth the minimum effort it took to fulfill her request. When he had brought the convicted men to her, he had learned true fear. Clementine had burned the men alive, using their sacrificial deaths to power up both her magic and the magic of her acolytes as well as the magic of her Targaryen apprentices.

After that, she had constantly demanded him to bring her more human sacrifices of the lowest of the lowest scum that Essosi prisons had to offer to be sacrificed in the flames of her Red God and, this time, he had obeyed for fear. From then on, she had begun to take over his house, her acolytes moving in, and he, Illyrio Mopatis, found himself living in the servant's quarters. He had, of course, tried to fight back but she had burned him for his insolence.

"Good," Clementine said, her usually sweet and guileless face twisting into a satisfied smirk as she heard that. "How goes your other job? Have you managed to get me those petrified dragon eggs yet?"

"Yes, my lady, they arrived earlier today. The cost of transporting them was much higher but I knew you wanted them," Illyrio replied with a wince. Those eggs had been very hard to get, and very expensive too. Not that money mattered much to him anymore now that it was no longer his, especially since he was now treated like some common servant in his own home.

"Excellent," Clementine said with a slight giggle as she gave Illyrio an approving look. "Maybe you're not as useless as I thought."

Illyrio bowed to her at that, inordinately pleased to be getting such a compliment from the woman who had ruined his life. A few seconds later, when the man showed no indication of leaving Clementine raised an eyebrow.

"Are you still here for a reason?"

He jumped at that, and at the slight gleam of irritation that had appeared in the blonde woman's pink eyes. "No, my lady. I-I'll just leave," Illyrio replied as he started to scurry out of the room.

"Good, you can go inform Viserys and Daenerys of the Khals' arrival," Clementine called after him as she watched the man flee from her room. He truly was a pathetic excuse for a human.

Turning away from the view of the fat man waddling away, Clementine instead disrobed. Allowing the red silk robes she was wearing to fall to the floor and pool at her feet, revealing the flawless body beneath. She did, after all, have to get ready for tonight with the Khals assembled and the dragon eggs delivered, she was ready to begin.

 **( - )**

 **(An hour later outside the walls of Pentos)**

Daenerys was feeling slightly nervous at the moment and for good reason too. Currently, she was sitting within a large Dothraki tent, at her side was her mentor, Lady Clementine, and beside her was her brother, Viserys. The reason for her nerves though was the three large Khals who were sitting opposite them in the tent. Each of these Khals had brought some of their followers, what they called their Blood Riders with them as escorts. This meant that the three of them were greatly outnumbered by a number of Dothraki warriors in the tent. The only reason she was able to keep it together was due to Clementine's presence. Without her, she knew she would have been terrified of being here.

The past year under Clementine's tutelage had been the best year of Dany's life. Her brother was calmer and no longer preached about how he was the last dragon. Instead, he thrived as one of Clementine's apprentices, and he loved the power they had learned to wield and the fear and respect they received from their association with the Red Priestess. Daenerys, too, appreciated the power she now had. It was the first time in her life that she could ever remember having power. The power to do what she wanted and be who she wanted to be, it was intoxicating, and it was all thanks to Clementine.

She did occasionally feel guilty though when she was ordered to take part in the sacrifices, but she was able to justify her actions to herself afterward. The men they burnt were criminals: murderers, slavers, and rapists. The world was better off without them, and if their sacrifice helped her and her brother get back to Westeros and free their people from the tyranny of Robert Baratheon, then it was a worthy sacrifice indeed. Plus, after regaining the Iron Throne, they then needed to fight back the enemies of the Lord of Light that Clementine claimed were growing in power.

"So, why did you call us here, woman? I was told you had something great and valuable to offer us," one of the bigger Dothraki Khals spoke up, a dark look on his face as he glared at Clementine.

Dany winced slightly as she mentally translated his words, using the lessons Clementine had insisted they take in learning the Dothraki language. She almost felt sorry for the Khal as Clementine was not the type of person you spoke to like that.

"Oh, I have much to offer, Khal Drogo," Clementine replied kindly to the hulking Dothraki, her pink eyes glittering in the light that came from the multiple fiery braziers that she had ordered lighted around the tent.

The now named Khal, Drogo, grunted at that before he moved his gaze to Dany. His eyes roved up and down Daenerys' body, looking at the perfectly fitted red silk dress and at the silver tiara she threaded into her equally silver hair. Daenerys shivered as she saw the lustful look in his eyes and it did not take her long to guess what that man wanted to do to her.

"Like what?" one of the other Khals spoke up. This one was smaller than Drogo in size but otherwise looked quite similar. They both had black hair tied in a long pony tail and were bare-chested and covered in muscles. Looking around it appeared that brawny and half-naked was a common look the Dothraki went for.

Clementine stood up at that, an amused expression on her face as she approached a chest that she had ordered laid before her when they had first entered the tent. Opening the chest, she revealed the three petrified dragon eggs she had order Illyrio to get for her. Picking up the first egg, she threw it to Drogo, the second one she threw to the Khal next to him, and the third to the final Khal. With that done, she stood in front of the Dothraki an expectant look on her face.

Drogo looked down at the egg before he glowered back up at the blonde woman. "You give us rocks?!"

Clementine giggled at that, and immediately Daenerys felt a well of discomfort grow within her. "Give them to you?" she asked, quite amused. "No, I am not giving them to you. I am simply having you hold them so you can give something to me?"

"What?" Drogo asked bluntly. "What do you expect us to give you?"

"Well, your Khalasars for a start," Clementine replied, her answer getting her a round of laughter from all the Dothraki in the tent. "And then I would like your lives."

The laughter stopped at that, even as some of the Blood Riders in the tent began to finger their blades. If this sign of aggression bothered Clementine, she didn't show it. Instead, she just raised her hand in the air.

Daenerys' eyes widened as she felt the air around her thicken with magic. Looking up, she was just in time to see the look of glee in Clementine's pink eyes before she brought her hand down. Instantly, the surrounding braziers exploded with flame, and the tent devolved into shouts and screams of fear and agony as the fire exploded outwards.

 **( - )**

For the tens of thousands of bored Dothraki camped outside the tent, it was like nothing they had ever seen. One moment they had been waiting around, keeping to their own separate khalasars as they camped out for miles in each direction, waiting patiently for whatever it was they had been brought here for to happen, only for the tent with their leaders in, exploded in flames. The fires burning white hot as they scorched the ground around them and caused those standing too close to step back fearfully. Looking on in terror, the Dothraki saw three figures casually walk out of the flames. All three of them were completely naked but were otherwise completely unharmed by the flames. One of the figures was a tall thin man with violet eyes and long silver hair, and as he stepped out of the flames, a small green dragon could be seen crawling up his body. The second figure was a silver haired girl, this one, too, had violet eyes and was carrying a dragon hatchling, only this one was black. The final figure was a tall and curvaceous blonde woman, who like the other two walked completely unharmed out of the flames, a small red dragon standing proudly on her shoulder and looking out over the assembled khalasars.

As the three figures emerged from the flames, the fire seemed to writhe before shaping itself into the shape of a massive bucking stallion that looked out imperiously over the watching Dothraki. No one knew who the first one to bow was but soon enough they all fell to their knees, their foreheads on the ground in reverence at the impossibility of what they had just seen. Soon enough almost sixty thousand Dothraki were bowing before the three figures.

Turning to Clementine with a triumphant smirk on his face as he saw all the savage horsemen bow before their display, Viserys asked, "So we have our army now, when will we be going to Westeros?"

"Patience, my young king," Clementine said calmly as she triumphantly looked over the new soldiers for the Lord of Light. It had taken a year to make this happen: to power and train her magic to create such a display; to locate the dragon eggs; and to assemble the three Khals she had summoned. It had been difficult but now it was paying off, the Dothraki were superstitious and such a display would work wonders with them. But she had not quite cemented their loyalty yet.

"This is just the beginning. Westeros is a vast continent with large armies and fortified keeps. We will need more Warriors of the Light if we are to retake your throne," Clementine replied calmly.

"Fine," Viserys grunted, a part of him wanted to argue but he respected and feared her too much to dare and do that. Instead, he decided to do as she commanded , for now. "Where are we going next?"

"We are going to go free some slaves," Clementine said simply, her smile widening as she thought back on what she had seen in the fire more than a year ago when magic had first returned to the land.

Daenerys looked up at her in awe at that statement, whilst Viserys just looked confused. Clementine, however, just continued to gaze out at the bowing mass of warriors before her, her mind already moving onto how she would cement the Dothraki's loyalty and bolster her forces with an army of grateful slaves. All that would then be needed was a fleet that could carry her and her army across the Narrow Sea. Maybe she should look into what her fellow High Priestess, Melisandre, was up to in Westeros. The last she had heard, she had latched onto Stannis Baratheon, the Master of Ships.

 **AN: Hi all hope you all enjoyed the chapter I had a good time writing it. Would like to once again thank Foxmac for all her hard work in looking through and Betaering my chapters.**

 **I quite liked the way the chapter ended if I am honest. It shows the negative consequences of Harry's arrival and the revival of magic in Westeros which I think is sometimes ignored. After all there is always both good and bad that can be found in any occasion and the empowerment of the Red Priestess is just one example.**

 **The next update should hopefully be quite quick. I have a draft already done I am just waiting on the feedback from this chapter which I will use to make any changes or add a few extra pieces depending on what is said.**

 **I will just say however that I have a very unique and hopefully never done before plan for how I am going to turn canon events on their head in true game of thrones style. It will be good... I hope.**

 **Other than that I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and would love to here from you, so please do comment and review etc.**

 **See you next time.**

 **Seagate.**


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: So there seemed to be a mostly good reaction to the last chapter. Which I appreciate a lot, got a few interesting comments that I decided to take into account when I was writing this chapter. Also had a concern raised over how the story is not Harry centric. I would like to respond to that by saying that Harry is the main character, however he is not the only character. This story like A song of ice and fire has a lot of things going on, to many to cover properly with only one point of view, which is why you will occasionally see things from multiple perspectives.**

 **So other than that I hope you enjoy the next chapter. Also I would once again like to thank Foxmac for betaering my work, I really think it has made a difference.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

 **Previously . . .**

 _Turning to Clementine with a triumphant smirk on his face as he saw all the savage horsemen bow before their display, Viserys asked, "So we have our army now, when will we be going to Westeros?"_

" _Patience, my young king," Clementine said calmly as she triumphantly looked over the new soldiers for the Lord of Light. It had taken a year to make this happen: to power and train her magic to create such a display; to locate the dragon eggs; and to assemble the three khals she had summoned. It had been difficult but now it was paying off as the Dothraki were superstitious and such a display would work wonders with them. But she had not gained their loyalty yet._

" _This is just the beginning. Westeros is a vast continent with large armies and fortified keeps. We will need more Warriors of the Light if we are to retake your throne," Clementine replied calmly._

" _Fine," Viserys granted, a part of him wanted to argue but he respected and feared her too much to dare and do that. Instead, he decided to do as she commanded, for now. "Where are we going next?"_

" _We are going to go free some slaves," Clementine said simply, her smile widening as she thought back on what she had seen in the fire more than a year ago when magic had first returned to the land._

 _Daenerys looked up at her in awe at that statement, whilst Viserys just looked confused. Clementine, however, just continued to gaze out at the bowing mass of warriors before her, her mind already moving onto how she would cement the Dothraki's loyalty and bolster her forces with an army of grateful slaves. All that would then be needed was a fleet that could carry her and her army across the Narrow Sea. Maybe she should look into what her fellow High Priestess, Melisandre, was up to in Westeros. The last she had heard, she had latched onto Stannis Baratheon, the Master of Ships._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 16**

 **( - )**

 **(In Essos)**

Dean had to admit he had been a bit nervous when he had first seen the legions of Dothraki raiders fall to their knees before the fiery and destructive display that Clementine and the Targaryens had created. When he had looked up at the flaming horse and then at the three figures that had stridden out of the conflagration, unharmed, he had felt a sudden cold feeling run down his spine. They had, of course, been aware that there were likely other magic users in this world. This was why they had set out to track down these practitioners soon after they had settled on the Iron Islands and finished establishing their base. What they had found had been surprising as in Westeros itself they had found little true magical talent. They had managed to track down a couple of hedge mages, untrained individuals who possessed a minor talent in wielding magic and met a few descendants of the First Men that had slightly more magic in them than the average Andal, in which the Starks were a prime example of this.

They had also found evidence of magical creatures that had called the land home as well as having seen and harvested the dragon bones Robert Baratheon had stored beneath the Red Keep in King's Landing. They had also found magical node points dotted throughout Westeros that followed the magical ley lines that run throughout the land and later discovered that the large pale trees were called weirwood trees and were connected to the worship of the Old Gods. They had researched the history of the country, briefly raiding the Citadel's library to discover giants, dryad-like creatures called the Children of the Forest, and demonic creatures called the White Walkers had supposedly once walked this land. But they had also been told these creatures were either myth or had died out millennia ago. As magic users themselves, they had taken that baseless assessment cynically, with some members of the Order having suggested the land north of the Wall be investigated to find further evidence. Thus far, apart from using the wilderness beyond the Wall as a testing ground for Fred and George's inventions, not much progress had yet been made in investigating possible magical activities beyond it.

They had come to the conclusion that there were magic users in this world, but that for some reason they were on the decline. Work was still ongoing to find more information out. Just before Harry had sent Dean to Essos to investigate the goings on with the Tagaryens, Hagrid, the Centaurs, and several members of the Herbology Guild had been in the midst of organizing an expedition beyond the Wall to search for magical plants and creatures as well as to set up a possible outpost that could be used for further site visits. Discussions had also been going on about traveling to Essos, where talk of magic was more widely circulated than it was in Westeros and though things had been hectic and research into the far-off land of Essos was not high on the list of priorities.

It appeared that they had been focusing on the wrong place. They had only had limited contact with Essos as most of their attention was on establishing themselves on Westeros. The only contact they had was through trading with the Free Cities. It appeared, in hindsight, that they should have paid closer attention as the display he had just seen barely an hour ago on the fields outside Pentos was an act of magic that even he would struggle to replicate in terms of both power and control.

From what Dean's limited investigation into the rumors surrounding the religion of R'hllor had revealed, he had discovered that the Red Priests had a talent for fire-based divination, rituals, and possibly minor elemental magic. He had passed on what he had learned but had emphasized that they were mostly through rumor and had believed that what they actually did was just parlor tricks that relied on fear and scaremongering. After all, divination was always a bit of a woolly subject, and manipulating fire was easy if you had access to certain flammable liquids or chemicals.

It appeared that he had been wrong. The display he had just seen was not a parlor trick but was a powerful use of elemental magic that Dean knew he would struggle to replicate and one he knew Harry would want to hear about. Of course, Harry would probably also be interested in the fact that the Targaryens were under the influence of a powerful witch and said witch also had an army of Dothraki.

It had been an hour since he had witnessed the display and he had still not recovered from the shock of what had happened.

 **( - )**

It had been nearly two weeks since he had first come to Pentos and infiltrated Illyrio's home, taking on the role of a servant as he did so, a role he had been playing well if he did say so himself. Servants, Dean had found, were often overlooked or just plain ignored by their masters. It was why he had chosen to be one, it was not exactly glamorous but it got the job done. Infiltrating the palace had been surprisingly easy as his dark skin had allowed him to blend in Essos much easier than he had been able to blend in Westeros. Currently, Dean was standing in the gardens of Illyrio's palace, patiently waiting as he did so.

"Damn it, where is she?" he muttered to himself as he looked up into the night sky. He had called for his contact ten minutes ago and had been waiting ever since. It was at times like this that Dean cursed the fact that the twins had not finished their work on the communication mirrors as they were too big for easy transportation and any attempts at shrinking them would destroy the enchantments on them. Thus, making their use . . . temperamental.

Dean's patience soon paid off as his contact swooped down towards him from the nearby trees. "Talk about taking your time, Hedwig," he muttered as he raised his arm to allow the snowy owl to perch on it.

Hedwig merely hooted irritably in response before she tightened her talons on Dean's arm, causing the man to wince slightly.

"Okay, fine, whatever," Dean muttered as he met the amber-eyed gaze of the owl. "I need you to deliver something to Harry, and I need you to be as fast as you possibly can."

Hedwig gave another hoot at that even as she twisted her head slightly in curiosity.

Dean didn't reply though as he pulled a small glass bottle out of his pocket, filled with wispy silver memories. Seeing this, Hedwig offered her leg to him to attach the bottle to her leg.

"Now you need to fly fast, Hedwig. As fast as you can," Dean muttered as he looked around nervously when he felt a sudden tingle run down his neck. "Hurry. If I stay out any longer someone might notice my absence."

"Oh, I think it's a bit too late for that," a sudden voice spoke up, causing Dean to whirl around in surprise. His eyes widening even further as he saw Lady Clementine appear behind him, a pleasant smile on her face as she stared at him with hungry eyes.

"My lady," Dean said pushing his shock away as he masked it with confusion. "I was unaware you were out here tonight. Is there anything I can do for you?"

An amused look crossed Clementine's. "I'm surprised you are even bothering to pretend you're still a servant."

Dean had to admit she had a point as she had blatantly caught him about to send a message, taking into account that there was no point in pretending anymore. "I'm surprised you're out here tonight," he said instead and, honestly, he was. The woman had never struck him as the type of person to enjoy going on night time walks. There was no reason for her to be out here at all, and it was especially suspicious that she just happened to come across Dean at this exact moment.

"So tell me, how long have you known?"

"What, about you being a spy?" Clementine replied the amusement never leaving her face as her pink eyes moved from Dean to Hedwig then back Dean. "Oh, I've known ever since you began masquerading as a servant."

"I'm surprised you noticed," Dean replied calmly, even as he prepared to leap into action.

Clementine shrugged at that. "I could smell the magic on you as soon as you arrived. Plus, as a former servant myself, I always pay attention to those around me, especially if an unfamiliar face unexpectedly joins the serving staff with no prior warning."

Dean blinked in surprise as he had not been expecting that. "So why didn't you call me out on it straight away?"

"Because I was curious. I wanted to know who sent you and why. This is why I waited and watched," Clementine shrugged. "After tonight's fun, I assumed you would try and send a report and . . . Well, here we are."

"It's a bit risky waiting this long, don't you think?" Dean questioned.

"No. After all, I've hardly been subtle. Sixty thousand Dothraki saw that display and I doubt they will keep silent on it," Clementine responded easily. "More than that, why would I want them to stay silent? I want the stories of my power to spread as I want all Essos to know what happened here tonight and quake in fear at the thought of opposing me. After all, you know what happens when news travels: it's often exaggerated as it spreads. And the further it spreads, the more exaggerated it becomes."

Dean nodded in understanding. He knew what she said was true, just as he knew that the news of what happened here today would cause mass hysteria in some and be shrugged off as nonsense by others. Either way, it will be useful for Clementine going forward.

"Besides what makes you think that I haven't taken... steps to put you down?" Clementine added in, the cat-like smile on face.

"Steps?" Dean questioned his voice slurring almost unnoticeably, his eyes flicking found the clearing as he tried to search out an ambush. If one has been laid he would need to get out of here as fast as he could. His hand reached into his pocket at that, fumbling around trying to find the gold coin that had been charmed to be a portkey. All it would take is a word and he would be able to escape. Finding the coin he pulled it out, only to drown in confusion as he realised that although it looked similar to what he was looking for it was not the same, and so was not his portkey.

"Looking for something?" Clementine asked mockingly.

Dean looked over at her in confusion, only for his eyes to widen as he saw her absentmindedly rolling the gold coin in question along her knuckles. Before casually setting her hand on fire and melting the coin down to molten sludge.

"I told you didn't I, I could smell the magic in you when you arrived. So imagine my surprise when I had your belongings searched that they found this among them. So strange that a mere servant would have such a valuable coin, especially one that has some kind of magical enchantment on it..." Clementine mocked the smile on her face predatory. She had had the spies room searched the first chance she had, just as she had kept her own eye on the little spy. It had been child's play to swap the coin out with another while she tried to work out its purpose, which annoyingly enough she hadn't been able to do.

"So are these the steps you have taken?" Dean asked as he took a step back his vision blurring slightly as his opponent took a step forward. He still conscious of the fact he had Hedwig on his arm. His mind immediately thought about apparating away now, but if he did so Hedwig would probably be killed and the memories he gave her destroyed.

"No, no those steps would involve the posion I have been having added to your food. Nothing too deadly of course, just a special little something I whipped up to make sure you can't scurry away like the little rat you are." The blonde woman responded her head tilting to the side curiously as she did so. "Though I have to say you have an impressive constitution, you should be incapacitated by now, but no matter."

Dean's eyes widened at the mention of posion. He had been so careful while he was here, he had regularly checked for posions in his food. He may not have much experience of being a spy, after all such skills were useless when you were fleeing from bloodthirsty demons, but he had watched enough spy films to know to watch out for such things.

"I don't know how you did it, but it won't work," Dean said, nodding slowly as he slipped his wand into his free hand, his eyes fixed on the Red Priestess, searching for the slightest sign of movement, though as he did so he became aware of how his vision was becoming slightly darker, his kind slightly more sluggish and how his limbs had begun to quiver involuntarily. "So what happens now?"

"Well, now, you have the choice, little spy. You can either give up at which point you will be painfully interrogated and then killed. Or you can try to fight at which point you will be brutally incapacitated before being painfully interrogated and then killed," Clementine replied as she shrugged off her black cloak, allowing the dark material to pool at her feet.

"Well, both of those choices sounds tempting," Dean replied cautiously even as his eyes trailed over the armor the blonde woman was wearing before they fixed onto the three stiletto blades she had sheathed on the small of her back. Maybe quickly apparating away now would be sensible, but first he had to make sure that Hedwig got away.

The smile on Clementine's face suddenly became vicious as she lowered herself into a crouched position even as she unsheathed two of her stiletto blades, twirling them in her hands as she did so. Her entire form became cloaked in a shroud of flame, her pink eyes taking on a sudden glow as she drew on her magic. For Clementine the feeling was almost euphoric as she felt more powerful than ever before, her body was practically fit to bursting with magic, still empowered as it was by the hundreds of human sacrifices she had done over the last year.

With barely a thought, Dean whipped his wand out and released a silent _bombarda_ at the woman even as he launched Hedwig off of his arm and into the air. Even as he backed away preparing himself to cover her retreat, before he apparated away himself.

Clementine did not even blink as she darted forward, nimbly avoiding Dean's spell as it crashed into where she had previously been standing. Decimating the ground as it exploded and using the shock wave from the explosion to help propel her forward, Clementine quickly closed in on Dean, she didn't want him to escape somehow so she was going to get in close and not give a him a chance to think.

Swinging her blades around, she sent two fiery arcs of magic flying at Hedwig, hoping to incapacitate or kill the snowy owl as she took off into the skies. She wanted to know who had sent Dean, and if the man died or somehow escaped, the message he sent would be useful in unraveling that mystery.

Dean flicked his wand and the surrounding trees responded. The branches animating as they intercepted Clementine's spell, allowing Hedwig to make her escape. His job down he twisted back towards Clementine, his vision darkening and his head pounding as he slashed his wand out and large spikes of earth erupted from the ground aiming to impale her. Fire exploded from her form, shattering the earthen spikes as she erupted forwards once again, getting within arm's reach of Dean as she brought her fiery blades to bear on him.

Dean, however, was prepared as he created a shield around himself that was quickly shattered by Clementine's assault. Turning on the spot, he made to apparate away, trying to escape from the unnaturally enhanced Red Priestess, who was moving quicker than any normal human had any right to, he was not prepared for this fight at the moment and had to get away especially as he could feel the mysterious posion Clementine had used effecting him already. He already had the Pyke fixed in his sluggish mind, and was kid way through apparating.

He was not quick enough, however, as Clementine's right stiletto blade struck and pierced his shoulder mid-apparition, an action that caused him to lose concentration. With a shout of pain, Dean crashed onto the floor a few feet away, his body curling up as he felt a scorching, cauterized wound on his right shoulder as well as pain coming from the stump that had once been his right leg. Clementine's actions have caused him to lose concentration and thus splinch himself.

A cat-like grin spread across Clementine's face as she approached the wounded Dean. "You should've just given up as it would have been much easier for you."

Dean's eyes sharpened at that even as his mouth twisted up into a snarl. Ignoring his pain, he clasped his wand tightly before thrusting it at Clementine shouting, _"Avada kedavra!"_ Green light erupted from his wand and flew straight at Clementine.

In response, Clementine sidestepped the jet of green light before responding with a brief wave of magical fire in Dean's direction. As she did this her eyes had widened slightly at feeling the potency of the dark magic he had just used. "And so the enemy reveals themselves," she spoke coldly as she glared down at Dean. "I'm going to enjoy tearing every secret I can from you, boy."

Dean once again snarled even as he felt his mind beginning to blur as the blood continued to flow from his stump of a leg. Raising his wand, he pointed it at Clementine one last time.

A mocking sneer crossed her face as she saw that action. "Really? Are you going to try the same thing? I would have thought you would have learned your lesson."

"Fuck you," Dean replied as harshly as he could.

Clementine merely laughed at that as she continued to prowl towards him.

Raising his wand again, Dean suddenly turned it back on himself, the tip of the wand now on his throat.

"No!" Clementine shouted, reaching out to stop him, her pink eyes widening when she realized what he was about to do.

" _Bombarda maxima!"_ Dean shouted, a tired smirk on his face as he decided that if he was going down, he was going to take Clementine with him.

 **( - )**

 **(In Winterfell)**

It was late in the morning and the courtyard was once again busy as stable boys ran around helping still hung-over men into their saddles. The reason for the hive of activity was the that king had decided upon waking that he wanted to hunt, stating that killing something was always a good way to get rid of a hangover.

Pulling himself up into his saddle with a grunt, a sober and well-rested Ned looked around and soon saw Robert riding towards him.

"You as good with a spear as you used to be?" Robert asked enthusiastically as he approached his old friend.

"No, but I'm still better than you," Ned replied with a slight chuckle, which Robert reciprocated as he reached over and slapped the Stark Lord on the shoulder jovially.

"I know what I'm putting you through, Ned. Thank you for saying yes. I only asked because I need you. You're a loyal friend, you hear me? A loyal friend. One of the last I've got," Robert said suddenly as he met Ned's gray eyes with his own.

"I hope I serve you well," Ned said with a nod and a slight smile.

"You will. And I'll make sure you don't look so fucking grim all the time," Robert chuckled as he once again clapped Ned on the shoulder getting a half-hearted chuckle out of the man.

"Speaking of grim," Robert continued as he looked around the courtyard. "Where the fuck is Harry? Don't tell me he is still in bed!"

Eddard shrugged, "I mentioned that there might be a hunt today when I saw him at the feast last night. Harry didn't seem too interested in it at the time, said he was going to be busy."

"Ah, well, it's his own fault if he misses out on it," Robert replied gruffly as he looked around and saw most of the men were now mounted and that the hunting dogs had been made ready.

"Harry's probably still passed out in bed from drink last night. Should've known the bloody Ironborn can't handle his ale," Robert laughed.

Ned gave a faint smile even as he noticed his ward, who was mounted beside Robb on his own horse, flinched at the king's loud comment. Robert was not the most considerate of people.

"Well, come on then. Let's get to it," Robert shouted as he began to ride out of the main gates with the rest of the hunting party behind him.

 **( - )**

 **(With Bran)**

Bran watched as the king, his father, and the rest of their party rode out of the gates of Winterfell. A part of him wanted to be out there with them but he knew that he wouldn't have been allowed. He had asked before when his father had gone out hunting with his older brother, Robb, and Theon. He had been told then that he was too young to hunt and that he had a few more years to wait until he could. It was a bit disappointing but Bran was willing to wait. Besides, he had plenty of things he could do here in Winterfell to amuse himself and climbing was one of those things, which was currently what he was going to do and had decided to climb up the old lookout tower. Just a year ago, the tower had been vacant and damaged, which made it a prime climbing material for Bran. But then his father had decided to renovate and improve Winterfell, which was a bit annoying but it stops him from climbing.

With everyone out hunting, there weren't as many people wandering around Winterfell as usual, which meant he could once again indulge in his hobby. It also meant it was likely that the tower was empty. With that in mind, he began to climb, leaving his currently nameless direwolf at the base of the tower looking up at him. With a grin on his face, Bran quickly scrambled up the tower making use of his lightweight frame and the many handholds that dotted it. Within ten minutes, he had made it to the top of the tower and upon reaching it, he froze as heard a feminine moan coming from the nearby window.

Curious, Bran nimbly climbed over to the window before looking in. He was shocked to see the source of the commotion as Lord Harry Albion, Ladies Daphne and Fleur Albion were all in the same bed and they were not sleeping. Bran's eyes widened as he saw Lord Harry thrusting into Lady Fleur even as he passionately kissed Lady Daphne, who at that moment was sitting on Lady Fleur's face, gyrating her hips. For young Bran, this was almost too much, and with widened eyes, he had to scramble on the edge of the window to avoid falling away from the window's ledge.

Bran's actions quickly got the attention of the three lovers and upon hearing the noise, Harry looked up sharply and saw the young Stark staring at them in shock from the window. Widening his eyes, Harry darted off the bed and rapidly approached Bran.

Seeing him coming, Bran attempted to make his escape but Harry grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him through the window and into the tower.

"And what the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" Harry asked angrily as he looked down at the young boy in irritation.

A red-faced Bran, eyes wide, looked fearfully up at Harry before he stuttered, "I-I am s-sorry. I didn't m-mean to s-see anything. I thought the tower would be empty and I just wanted to climb!"

Harry let out a sigh even as he let go of Bran, causing the boy to stumble slightly as his feet touched the floor. "Well, it was a stupid thing to do," he replied before he looked over and saw both Fleur and Daphne were now under the bed covers and were looking over at what was going on with a mixture of irritation and amusement on their faces.

"Quite the little climber, aren't you?" Harry asked as he looked down at Bran.

"Please don't tell, mother. I'm not supposed to be climbing up the towers and she'll be angry if she finds out," Bran replied nervously as Harry still towered over him.

Harry looked at him carefully before coming to a decision. "Fine, Bran, I won't tell your mother or your father if you keep your mouth shut about what just you saw."

Bran nodded quickly at that, thankful that he was going to get off scot free.

"All right, now go," Harry replied bluntly before he pointed towards the door. "And use the bloody stairs! The last thing you want is to fall off the tower and kill yourself."

Bran nodded quickly as he darted towards the door. Throwing it open, he quickly ran out of the room and down the stairs.

Harry let out a sigh as he saw Bran hurry down the stairs.

"Maybe you should have obliviated him," Daphne spoke up from behind Harry.

"I doubt it would've been necessary," Harry replied as he turned back around to the bed, only just now realizing that he was still naked.

"He might tell someone," Daphne continued with a frown.

"So what?" Fleur said with a shrug and a slight smile as she flicked her silver hair behind her. "If 'e does tell anyone zey will just zink him a pervy little boy."

Harry chuckled at that. "Besides I doubt the boy will tell anyone. And if he does, who cares. None of us are committing any crime. If Prince Oberyn can get away with it, why can't we?"

Daphne scowled at that, noting to herself to maybe modify the boy's memory of the incident if she had the time.

"So," Harry said a large grin on his face as he felt himself getting hard again. "Shall we continue?"

Both Fleur and Daphne shot him an unamused looked at that.

"I think the mood is dead," Daphne said in an unimpressed tone of voice.

"Fucking cock-blocker," Harry grumbled to himself as he glared in the direction Bran had run off.

 **( - )**

 **(With Ned and Catelyn)**

"So you're going south?" Catelyn said as she looked over at her husband.

"I don't have a choice," Eddard replied as he looked at his wife with a slight scowl on his face. "When Robert wants something, he usually gets it. Besides, I have already agreed to be his Hand."

"But what of the letter Lysa sent us?" Catelyn asked, referring to the letter she had received from her sister a few weeks after Lord Jon's death, which told her that her sister had fled King's Landing in fear, that the Lannisters had been the ones who murdered Jon Arryn, and warned Catelyn to be careful.

"That's part of the reason I'm going," Ned replied solemnly as he looked to his wife. "If the Lannisters did have anything to do with Jon's death, then I need to bring them to justice."

"It's dangerous down south. You remember what happened the last time a Stark rode south?" Catelyn asked rhetorically.

"Things won't happen like this time. Besides, if what Lysa said is true, then Robert might also be in danger," Ned replied.

Catelyn sighed, knowing as she did that once Ned made up his mind he wasn't quick to change it. "Do you have to take Bran, Sansa, and Arya, though?"

Ned sighed himself as it was a question that his wife had asked him often since he had decided to go south. "If Sansa is to marry Prince Joffrey, then it is only right she gets to know her betrothed and the place she will eventually live."

Catelyn couldn't refute that point nor did she want to. Sansa seemed so excited about the prospect of marrying the crown prince. "What of Bran? He's still so young and so is Arya."

"They both want to come, and I also think, it will do them good," Ned replied with a nod. "And if they do get homesick and want to go back to Winterfell, I can always send them with a guard back up north. Besides, Bran wants to be a knight and there are more knights in the south that he can squire for than here in the North."

Catelyn sighed again.

"Don't worry, we'll all be fine," Ned replied as he hugged his wife closer to him. "And when we're settled in King's Landing, who knows, maybe you could come down and join me."

"I know. You'll be fine," Catelyn said softly. "But I just have a bad feeling, is all."

 **( - )**

 **(With Arya)**

Arya was excited as she ran through the halls of Winterfell, managing to escape Septa Mordane's lesson and was, at the moment, heading towards the training yard. She had just heard from a passing guardsman that her brother, Robb, was currently sparring with the crown prince. Although Arya had confidence in her brother coming out the victor, she was still excited to see the fight. The crown prince had likely been taught how to wield a sword since birth. She was looking forward to the upcoming display of skill. Unfortunately, though, upon making it to the training yard, it became clear to Arya that the crown prince was not particularly skilled with a sword. She ended up having to stifle a giggle as she saw how Robb landed blow after blow on Prince Joffrey, whilst the prince could only respond by throwing out wild swings at Robb, hoping to catch the older boy with a lucky strike. That was not to say Joffrey was completely incompetent as he did manage to land a hit but it was merely a glancing blow, which didn't even stop Robb for a second.

A few minutes after her arrival, Arya was disappointed to see Joffrey petulantly forfeit the match. It was such a shame as she had been hoping to see something exciting as her days had been boring of late. More often than not she was forced to spend time with Sansa and the Princess Myrcella, which wouldn't be so bad were it not for the fact that the both of them seemed to enjoy sewing and their lessons with Septa Mordane.

Letting out a sigh, Arya prepared to leave, maybe even find Bran and goad him into chasing her. But before she could, she sensed someone come up behind her. Turning around sharply, Arya let out a sigh of relief when she found the person behind her wasn't Septa Mordane or her mother like she had first feared, both of whom would have scolded her had they found her loitering around the training yard.

"Hey, Hannah, what are you doing here?" Arya asked as a large smile spread across her face as she looked up at the pretty, older woman. She found she liked Hannah as the older woman was everything she would want to be: confident, independent, and didn't bow down to the expectations others had for women. Instead, she defied those expectations, often proving herself to be more than a match with any man both in terms of wit and otherwise.

"Well, with the king and Lord Stark out hunting, and Lord Albion . . . is currently indisposed, I became a bit bored," Hannah answered with a shrug, a slight smile on her face as she looked down at Arya. "So I came to the decision that I would wander down here and see what was going on."

Looking at Hannah properly, Arya's eyes widened slightly as she also took note of Hannah was wearing: set of black leather armor that displayed the dragon crest of House Albion with a long, thin sword belted at her waist. From what she was wearing, it didn't take Arya long to come to a conclusion on what Hannah was going to do.

"Well, you just missed Robb and Prince Joffrey sparring," Arya answered with a grin on her face as she thought back to the girlish yelps Joffrey had let out after being struck a couple of times.

"How did he do?" Hannah asked in bemusement as she saw the Stark girl let out an uncharacteristic giggle.

"Poorly. Robb beat him easily. I think Rickon would have been more of a challenge for Robb," Arya replied with another grin as she looked down to see the next sparring session had not started yet.

"Sounds like Robb had it easy then," Hannah replied with a slight smirk on her face. "Well, I can't let that stand. I wouldn't want my dear sweet betrothed to develop a big ego."

Arya's grin became even wider as Hannah brushed past her, ruffling her hair as she did so. Suddenly things were going to get a lot more exciting for Arya. Leaning against a nearby wooden railing, she grinned wider as she saw Hannah stride confidently into the training yard.

 **( - )**

"My lord, would you care for another round?" Ser Rodrik, Winterfell's master-at-arms, asked as he looked over to the prince.

The crown prince merely sneered in response before he looked away and said, "This is a game for children. I am a prince, and I've grown tired of swatting at Starks with play swords."

Robb scowled before he looked over to Rodrik and said, "Then maybe if my lord prefers we can use live steel?"

The sneer on Joffrey's face became more pronounced and before he could respond, though, Ser Rodrik spoke up first, "Out of the question! This is a sparring match and live steel is too dangerous. Neither of you is experienced or sensible enough to use it yet." Rodrik didn't give a damn as he denied both the crown prince and the future Lord of Winterfell. If the two idiotic boys used real swords and got themselves hurt, it would be Rodrik's neck on the block.

Joffrey scoffed, "Why should I even bother then? It appears you Northmen seem to only want to play with toy swords anyway."

This caused the nearby Lannister guards jeered and laughed at their prince's words. Rodrik scowled darkly but didn't reply. Robb, though, opened his mouth to give a scathing response and before he could, he was interrupted by the arrival of Hannah.

"If my lord doesn't want to spar, I would be more than willing to take his place," Hannah said as she made her presence known to those in the training yard. "After all, I wouldn't want Robb getting too big a head."

This got a round of from the surrounding men, though for different reasons. The Lannisters laughed because they thought the woman a fool and what chance would she have against a man in a fight. The Northmen, however, laughed good-naturedly as they knew she was more than capable of holding her own in a fight.

"And who do you think you are?" Prince Joffrey asked with confusion.

"My name is Lady Hannah Albion of the Iron Islands, my lord," Hannah replied with a slight bow to Prince Joffrey as there was no point in unduly antagonizing the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. "I am also Robb Stark's betrothed."

Joffrey smirked even as he looked over at Robb haughtily. "Not even able to keep your woman under control, Stark. Doesn't surprise me. I always knew you Northmen were savages."

Said Northmen all stiffened at that insult. Surprisingly, Robb didn't. Instead, the young Stark Lord let out a loud bark of laughter. This gained him many confused looks from Lannister men, knowing grins and jabs from Stark men, and a faint smile from Hannah.

Deciding to expand on his amusement, Robb spoke, "Trust me, my lord, southern women don't hold a candle to Hannah. I doubt the Old Gods and the New could control her even if they wanted to."

The Northmen all began to chuckle at that as they had all gotten to know Lady Hannah during the last year and could back up Robb's statement.

"So if you will excuse us, my lord, I have a betrothed to educate," Hannah said as she swept past Joffrey, effectively dismissing any response he could make as she scooped up the practice sword he had dropped before.

"Huh, whatever," Prince Joffrey replied in an attempt to save face as he moved to the side of the training yard. "If play-fighting with women is all you Starks are good for then, fine."

He was soundly ignored as, too, were the half-hearted laughter from the Lannisters. This was due to most of the people in the area paying more attention to the upcoming spar than to the petulant crown prince.

Both Hannah and Robb took their positions as they faced each other. Robb holding his sword in a guard position before him even as Hannah twirled the sword in her hand. Absentmindedly, channeling a bit of magic into her limbs, reinforcing her reflexes and strength slightly as she did so, an old trick she had learned during the war.

Looking between the two of them, Ser Rodrick gave the signal for the match to begin.

Darting forward, Robb started off the fight by swinging towards Hannah's midsection. With barely a blink of an eye, she sidestepped the attack before launching her own string of it. Each was blocked by Robb as he recovered from his first missed swing. Letting out a shout, he tried to get in close so he could use his larger size and greater strength to overwhelm her.

The watching Arya grinned widely as she watched them spar. Hannah, unlike Prince Joffrey, was skilled with a blade. Her movements were swift and confident, and she strikes accurately and without hesitation.

With a smile on her face, Hannah easily blocked and countered Robb's blows. Using her lighter and lithe frame to her advantage, she seemed to dance around Robb's larger and bulkier one. With practiced ease, she shifted between holding her sword with one hand to two without missing a step.

The two exchanged one hit after another until, finally, Hannah got within Robb's guard, and slapped his wrist with the flat of her sword, forcing Robb to reflexively drop his sword. Not giving him time to recover, Hannah drove her elbow into his sternum, knocking the breath out of him even as she placed one of her legs behind both of his and flung him over her hip so he landed on the ground. A moment later, found the tip of her practice sword against his throat.

Smiling down at him Hannah gave him a wink. "Do you give up yet?"

"Yes," Robb chuckled in reply. "You know a good betrothed would let her future husband win sometimes."

"And yet you still love me anyway," Hannah responded as she reached out and pulled Robb to his feet.

"Of course," Robb replied without hesitation.

Hannah smiled in response even as she heard the laughter and cheers from the surrounding Northmen. The Lannisters were now being unusually silent. This was not surprising as it was probably the first time they saw a woman as skilled as Hannah in a fight.

Looking over at the starring crown prince, Hannah gave another slight bow as she made to leave the arena with Robb following along behind her. His direwolf, Grey Wind, now at his side. "I thank you for allowing me to borrow your sword, my lord," Hannah said as she dropped the blade back on the floor where she found it before leaving the training yard.

"My lord," Robb said with a curt nod before following after Hannah, his interest in sparring now extinguished as he instead decided he wanted to spend the rest of the day with Hannah.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry)**

It was early the next morning when the king's party finally left Winterfell after an extended three-day stay. The departing king's company had grown in size as it left Winterfell. After all, Lord Stark, fifty Stark guardsmen, two dozen Stark servants and helpers, and three of Lord Stark's children: Arya, Bran, and Sansa, had joined the entourage heading south to King's Landing. Harry, Daphne, Michael Corner, and Fleur had also joined the entourage along with ten mounted Iron Islander guardsmen. The twenty golems they had originally brought with them had been left behind at Winterfell so that they could bolster the Albion forces protecting Hannah and their interests in Winterfell and the North.

Michael's joining them on the journey down south had been somewhat unexpected. Before they had left Winterfell, he had convinced Harry to let him join as he had decided he would break off from the main party and head to the Citadel, where he would continue to research magic in Westeros as well as the general history of the continent they now called home. Harry had allowed this as it appeared Michael had exhausted the reading material in Winterfell. He had compiled a report on his findings, including information about a type of magic called "warging" and of the magical creatures that lived beyond the Wall. Harry had begun to read his report, as well as copied it and sent several of it back to the Iron Islands.

Temporarily join the column heading south onto the King's Road was Jon Snow and his uncle Benjen Stark. Apparently, Ned's bastard had decided to join the Night's Watch and was going to head north to the Wall with his uncle and, surprisingly, the Imp, Tyrion Lannister, the little lord having got it in his head that he wanted to see the Wall. Currently, the group heading north was waiting, while Ned Stark spoke privately to his son.

Harry glanced at the group as he passed, his eyes flicking to the young Jon Snow before he looked away. In his few visits to Winterfell, he had not had much to do with young Jon or with any of the Stark children save for Robb. After all, there was little need for him to interact with them properly. They were children and he was not. He was the Lord of the Iron Islands and as such only went to Winterfell when he needed to discuss something of import with Lord Stark. Even so, he knew Hannah had the most interactions with them and he trusted her assessments of the Stark children.

From what Hannah had told him of Jon Snow, it was that he was a dour young man who had something of a chip on his shoulder about being a bastard. He showed some promise in sword fighting but lacked the charisma and enthusiasm of a natural born leader. Over all, he was just an average young man, if a slightly deprecating one. Which, considering the stigma surrounding bastards, was not that surprising. A part of Harry thought the boy going to Castle Black would help him. It would show him what life was like outside the walls of Winterfell and, hopefully, give him a little perspective and allow him to see that even though he was a bastard, he was one who had lived a better life than most of the people in Westeros.

Frowning as he thought of that, Harry also thought of his own son, James. Technically speaking and by the standards of Westeros, James was a bastard. Not that anyone on the Iron Islands treated him like one but it did concern Harry about how his son would be treated on the mainland if his apparent status became known. At the moment, he and Daphne weren't married as he had, of course, asked whether she wanted to marry him during her pregnancy but she had refused his sincere offer.

Daphne, ever the romantic, had decided that marriage was a powerful political tool and not one that should be thrown away lightly. She knew that Harry loved her just as she also loved him, which she had told him was enough for her. When he had asked her about James and the stigma that might surround him, she had merely waved it off by saying that as the Lord of the Iron Islands, Harry could just say James was legitimate and who would challenge him. If necessary, he could just make the king legitimize him. Magic, after all, was a pretty handy resource.

Harry hadn't been able to refute that.

"Harry," Daphne suddenly spoke up a frown on her face as she looked into the distance.

Looking up at her call, Harry noticed where she was staring. Turning in that direction, he soon saw why she called him. A smile spread across Harry's face as he saw Hedwig winging her way towards him. It appeared Dean had decided to report his findings in Essos.

 **AN: So what do you all think? Hope you all enjoyed the chapter.**

 **So does Dean die? Or does he survive?**

 **The next chapter is finished and I will be sending it to Foxmac to have a look through. So you won't have to wait long. Other than that please leave a comment and review and I will try and get back to you.**

 **For now though I am going to go watch the new episode of Game of Thrones which I have been hyped for all day.**

 **See you next time.**

 **Seagate.**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: So last chapter seemed to go down well with some and not so well with others. I suppose you can't please them all. Some of the complaints were about the logic of what happened, to which I can only say that it made sense in my mind what happened and I believe I put enough substance in the text to explain my reasoning. Even so people all have different thoughts and ideas on how things should go so I can only do my best.**

 **I have decided when I have more time to beef up the fight scene but the end result will be the same.**

 **Either way I will continue, which is why I am publishing this chapter, I hope you all enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

 **Would once again like to thank my Beta, Foxmac, for taking the time to read through and improve my story.**

 **(Last Time)**

 _Harry glanced at the group as he passed, his eyes flicking to the young Jon Snow before he looked away. In his few visits to Winterfell, he had not had much to do with young Jon or with any of the Stark children save for Robb. After all, there was little need for him to interact with them properly. They were children and he was not. He was the Lord of the Iron Islands and as such only went to Winterfell when he needed to discuss something of import with Lord Stark. Even so, he knew Hannah had the most interactions with them and he trusted her assessments of the Stark children._

 _From what Hannah had told him of Jon Snow, it was that he was a dour young man who had something of a chip on his shoulder about being a bastard. He showed some promise in sword fighting but lacked the charisma and enthusiasm of a natural born leader. Over all, he was just an average young man, if a slightly deprecating one. Which, considering the stigma surrounding bastards, was not that surprising. A part of Harry thought the boy going to Castle Black would help him. It would show him what life was like outside the walls of Winterfell and, hopefully, give him a little perspective and allow him to see that even though he was a bastard, he was one who had lived a better life than most of the people in Westeros._

 _Frowning as he thought of that, Harry also thought of his own son, James. Technically speaking and by the standards of Westeros, James was a bastard. Not that anyone on the Iron Islands treated him like one but it did concern Harry about how his son would be treated on the mainland if his apparent status became known. At the moment, he and Daphne weren't married as he had, of course, asked whether she wanted to marry him during her pregnancy but she had refused his sincere offer._

 _Daphne, ever the romantic, had decided that marriage was a powerful political tool and not one that should be thrown away lightly. She knew that Harry loved her just as she also loved him, which she had told him was enough for her. When he had asked her about James and the stigma that might surround him, she had merely waved it off by saying that as the Lord of the Iron Islands, Harry could just say James was legitimate and who would challenge him. If necessary, he could just make the king legitimize him. Magic, after all, was a pretty handy resource._

 _Harry hadn't been able to refute that._

" _Harry," Daphne suddenly spoke up a frown on her face as she looked into the distance._

 _Looking up at her call, Harry noticed where she was staring. Turning in that direction, he soon saw why she called him. A smile spread across Harry's face as he saw Hedwig winging her way towards him. It appeared Dean had decided to report his findings in Essos._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 17**

 **( - )**

To say Harry was concerned would be an understatement. The grim look on his face as he met Daphne and Fleur's eyes was enough evidence of that. It was later in the day, a few hours after they had received a report from Hedwig with the king's column having stopped and made camp.

Currently, Harry was standing in his private tent facing Daphne and Fleur. Between the two of them was a pensieve, an artifact used to view memories, and the memory they had just review raised concerns.

"It appears things in Essos are hotting up," Harry said as he met Fleur and Daphne's eyes.

Daphne grimaced at that comment. "This is no time to joke, Harry. We have just found out that there is a powerful magic user in Essos, one who has just taken control of a large Dothraki horde."

"Yes, it is but not overwhelmingly so. It is common knowledge that the Dothraki do not want to cross the sea. After all, they call it the "poison water" for a reason. It is also common knowledge that the Dothraki do not have the capabilities to properly lay siege to castles," Harry replied calmly.

"Do you really buy into that bullshit?" Daphne asked harshly. "The hordes of Genghis Khan never had any issues conquering walled cities during their campaign. It is foolish if you think the Dothraki will not be able to adapt to breaking cities. As for the sea: yes, it is a barrier but it is not an impenetrable barrier. Especially if the Red Priestess is able to get some ships."

"Yes, I accept and understand that. But you also shouldn't forget that we can sink and destroy any ships they send over. We do have a fleet and two full grown dragons . . . " Harry replied his voice once again calm. "The fact that this woman is as powerful as she is and the fact that the Targaryens also seem to possess some magical abilities is an issue but not necessarily a bad one."

"And how is that?" Daphne asked calming down slightly as she saw that apparent lack of worry on Harry's face.

"When we arrived in this world, we had around three hundred wizards and witches. Many of whom have already started settling down and having children. Don't get me wrong as this goes a long way to helping to bring our numbers up. However, it also means that the same old issues of inbreeding are possible." Harry said as he looked to his pureblood lover, a woman who he knew was from a noble house that was just as old as the Potters. In fact, he also knew from Daphne's family records that a number of Potters and Greengrasses in the past had married, which meant that Daphne was actually Harry's second cousin twice removed.

Daphne frowned as she heard that. It was true that could be an issue. After all, the purebloods had interbred for centuries and half of them became barking mad and delusional. Plus, you only had to look at how Crabbe and Goyle had turned out to know that interbreeding was a bad idea.

"The fact that there are magically strong people outside of our bloodlines in this land is good. It means that new magical blood can be added, and the fact that these Targaryens are nobility means that if they do come to Westeros and get in power, well, that means we will have more magical in power which will only benefit us," Harry replied as he weighed up both sides of the argument.

"That is, of course, if they don't turn out to be as insane as their father," Daphne replied blandly. "Still it is good that there are other magical people but the fact remains that this woman is dangerous."

Harry gained a dark look at that. "Yes, you are right, far more than you know."

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked.

Harry turned to her a somber look on his face. "While you and Fleur were looking through the memory for the second time, I looked in Hedwig's mind."

"And?" Fleur finally spoke up, making her presences known.

"And it appears that this Clementine can sense magic. She knew Dean was a spy, that he had magic and confronted him as he sent Hedwig to us. I don't know what has happened to him but from what Hedwig saw and heard the two of them started to fight," Harry continued as he looked at Fleur.

"He could have escaped," Daphne suggested. "This woman's magic looks to be based mainly around fire. Dean could have taken her by surprise and apparated away."

"Possibly," Harry nodded. "This is why I will send a message to Blaise asking him to look out for Dean. If we do not hear from him within a day, I will have Blaise send a team of magicals to find Dean, keep an eye on the Red Priestess, and investigate magic in Essos."

"But what about her ability to sense magic?" Fleur asked.

"I will tell the team sent to keep a distance, at least for now," Harry replied firmly.

Daphne did not look convinced by Harry's careful and cautious approach. "This woman with a horde of Dothraki at her back is clearly a threat. Why don't we send Blaise to lead the team sent and have him launch a joint Fiendfyre attack on the Dothraki army? Their numbers will be decimated and the remaining Dothraki will no longer trust the Red Priestess and the Targaryens as they have proven themselves fire mages?"

Both Harry and Fleur were silent upon hearing that. It was a ruthless and brutal suggestion. Even Harry found it ruthless and he had done some pretty messed up things in the past.

"Zhe idea has merit," Fleur said slowly in heavily accented English.

Harry frowned at that, even as he saw the conviction in Daphne's eyes. "I will pass on the suggestion. I want to hear what the other members of the Order have to say before we decide on that course of action."

Daphne nodded at that, confident that the others would see things her way. She knew for a fact Harry only did not want to do it as it would make the Dothraki hate magic, which could cause issues if they were to ever expand into Essos.

"Though I do have another idea, one that could solve our problem without going so far," Harry spoke up.

Daphne raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Tell me, have you ever heard about what happened after the death of Alexander the Great?" Harry said a slight smile on his face as he saw the look of confusion spread across Daphne's face.

Frowning slight Daphne replied, "He left no heirs and so his generals began fighting, which led to the destruction of his empire?" A look of realization then spread across Daphne's face.

"So what do you think will happen if this Clementine dies? Who will lead the army? Will the Dothraki be awed and scared enough by the Targaryens to remain loyal?" Harry asked with a slight smile still present on his face. "All it would take to put a stop to the threat is killing one person."

"A good idea but whether it works or not is left to be seen," Daphne replied as she saw the logic behind Harry's suggestion but they didn't know enough about the Targaryens' relationship with one another nor did they know enough about how skilled they were with magic. It could be that by killing Clementine, they end up just creating a martyr, one that will spur the Targaryens on.

"Then why not try it out first? If it fails, we go through with your plan. I am sure everyone will be satisfied with that," Harry said diplomatically.

"Let's first decide what type of threat they are before we seek to destroy them, starting with finding Dean and making sure he is safe," Daphne countered.

"Can I just ask somezing?" Fleur spoke up, feeling somewhat like a spectator as the other two dominated the conversation.

Both Harry and Daphne looked at her, waiting for her to speak, more than happy and willing to hear her take on the situation.

"What about ze dragons?" Fleur asked as she raised another concern the other two had so far not mentioned. "Dragons indigenous to zis world could become a zreat as we have no idea how zey compare to dragons from our world?"

Harry looked thoughtful at that. "I suggest we wait to see how we are going to handle the Red Priestess first. If we decide she needs to go, then we can go through with our plans and take the dragons in the confusion. That or we kill them while they are still young and put a stop to the threat they potentially present."

Daphne nodded at that. "I think it is more likely we will have to kill them and we will need to get Hagrid's advice as I do not know how we would go about trapping and transporting baby dragons."

Harry winced as he suddenly remembered back to his first year at Hogwarts when he had somehow got himself mixed up in transporting Hagrid's baby dragon, Norbert, to Romania. The experience had not been fun and a part of Harry suspected that the now full grown Norbert they had brought with them to Westeros still held something of a grudge against Harry for sticking her in a box.

"Speaking from experience, I would suggest we let Hagrid deal with it," Harry said with a grimace.

"I don't even want to know," Daphne replied resignedly. "For now though, I think we should send this information to Tracey if she has not already heard. Robert is going to be very angry when he hears and it will probably be best to get ahead of this so we can turn it to our advantage."

"Agreed," Harry said a distinct wince on his face as he imagined how the fat king would react to the news.

 **( - )**

 **(A few days later)**

The royal caravan had soon started moving again, heading further down south. Their progress, however, was hampered by the constant stops the royal entourage was making. Currently, they were on one of these stops while the horses were being watered even as those riding in carriages or on wagons got down to stretch their legs and work off the aches of the journey.

Harry was sitting with Robert and Ned in the shade of a large tree that was just to the side of the King's Road. The three of them all looking out over the wide open green fields that surrounded them.

"Gods, I have half a mind to leave them all behind," Robert said to no one in particular as he looked out over the scenery.

"I have half a mind to go with you," Ned spoke up a slight smile on his own usually stoic face as he enjoyed his time out of the saddle.

"What do you say, Ned? Just you and me on the King's Road, swords at our side, a couple of tavern wenches to warm our beds every night?" Robert offered a wide grin on his face as he Ned laughed.

"If you had asked me twenty years ago and there were no wars to fight; yes, I would. But right now? Not a chance," Ned replied with a chuckle which Robert soon joined in.

"Aye, there were wars to fight, women to bed. We never really had a chance in life to be young with all that we did," Robert added in a frown on his face before he looked over to Harry, who did not seem to pay attention to the conversation. Instead, the man was looking off into the distance, occasionally drinking some of the strange boiled leaf water Robert had noticed he drank. "What about you, Albion? You are still young. I bet you wouldn't mind coming along with me and Ned as we travel the land?"

Harry rolled his eyes in response. "I'm afraid not, your grace. I have responsibilities to the Iron Islands and my family. Plus, I think Daphne and Fleur would skin me alive if I did leave."

Robert let out a bark of laughter as he heard that. "You got a fine pair of women there, Albion. As finer a pair as any I have ever seen before but they have you by the balls! A man must be a man sometimes. You can't let some woman dictate how you live your life."

Harry didn't reply to that. Instead, he just took another sip of his tea.

"So you said you had something you wanted to tell us?" Ned spoke up into the following silence, deciding to press Robert for answers about why he had stopped the column and called both of them over.

"Hmm," Robert said with a brusque nod, even as he pulled out a folded note and handed it to Ned. "I received some grim news."

"When did this arrive?" Ned asked while he unrolled it and read the contents within.

"There was a rider late last night. Damn near killed his horse getting it to me. I didn't end up reading it until this morning. Now, I wish I hadn't read it at all," Robert answered grimly with his brow furrowed. This reaction, obviously, surprised Ned. Harry, however, had a good idea what the letter contained. Clearly, he had underestimated Varys' network.

"Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen have gained control of a Dothraki horde?" Eddard asked grimly. "Says here they also have three dragons and have joined up with some type of magician."

"The last bit is probably a load of bollocks. Those horse shaggers are a superstitious lot. The bit about the dragons and the Dothraki though, that is real," Robert angrily said at the idea of someone with Targaryen blood still alive especially now they had dragons and the Dothraki.

"The last dragons died out centuries ago," Harry spoke up a frown on his face.

"Well, apparently they didn't," Robert glowered. "We need to deal with them, and deal with them soon. "I say we send some assassins to kill them and gut their dragons."

Ned didn't like the idea of sending assassins as it was dishonorable and low but he also had to admit that these Targaryens offered a real threat to the realm and he could not, in good conscience, deny that they would need to be killed if they tried to come to Westeros. "We don't know what they are going to do next."

"With sixty thousand Dothraki at their backs? I think it's easy to guess what they're going to do," Robert replied angrily.

"Even a million Dothraki are no threat to the realm as long as they remain on the other side of the Narrow Sea. They have no ships, Robert. They don't go where their horses can't or won't walk," Ned said. "I say we wait and see what they plan on doing. If they make a move to attack Westeros, then yes, we deal with them. If not, we don't want to antagonize them."

"Besides," Harry added. "Even if they do make it across the Narrow Sea, sixty thousand Dothraki are not enough to take all of the Seven Kingdoms. Especially not if their numbers are whittled down by a strong defensive navy that attacks their ships as they cross the sea only to meet a force of armed, armored, and prepared soldiers waiting to meet them on the beaches."

Robert nodded at that. "Aye, you're right, Harry. With a strong navy and a plan in place, we could deal with the threat. What of the dragons though?"

"Ballistae," Harry said resolutely. "Give the word and I will have the blacksmiths back on the Iron Islands begin work on producing ballistae that can pierce dragon-scale and shatter dragon-bone."

"Do it," Robert said as he turned his full attention to Harry. "I don't care what it takes. I want you to strengthen the navy and begin making plans to deal with those dragons."

"Of course, your grace," Harry said. "It will take time and resources but I am confident we will be ready."

"Whatever it takes," Robert gratefully said with a nod to Harry, not even looking at Ned as Harry gave him all the answers he wanted. "Also I'll send a message south telling Varys to send some assassins after the pair. I want those damn dragon-spawn dead!"

"Robert . . . " Ned began with a frown on his face as he looked at Robert and Harry.

"No, Ned, it is decided. There are still those in the Seven Kingdoms who still call me Usurper. If and when the Targaryen boy crosses with a Dothraki horde and three dragons at his back, the scum will join him. They would give him counsel and ships to sail the Narrow Sea with that damn horde to get here," Robert said bitterly. "But if we prepared now and try and deal with the situation before it gets out of control by having the dragon-spawn killed in their beds-"

"He will not cross the Narrow Sea, Robert. And if by some chance he does, like Albion said we will throw them back into the water to watch them drown," Ned said a scowl on his face as he found himself backing up what Harry had said.

"So you agree that Harry is right," Robert said with a nod of his head to Harry. "Good, then you can get to help him prepare as soon as we get to King's Landing. In the meantime though, the assassins will be sent."

Ned opened his mouth to respond but was cut off again.

"There is a war coming, Ned. I don't know when, I don't know who will be fighting but it's coming. By the Gods, it's coming," Robert said in frustration. "And we will not let it take us by surprise."

 **( - )**

 **(At the Crossroads Inn a few weeks later)**

It had been several weeks since the conversation had happened. Robert had sent his orders to Varys and had then ordered the column to continue. From that day onward, the leisurely pace of before had been replaced by a route march as Robert wanted to get back to King's Landing as fast as possible. The king had also taken to inviting Harry to join him as he rode so he could engage him in conversation about how they would deal with the Dothraki and the Targaryens.

The royal caravan by this point was almost to King's Landing. They had, however, decided to make a final stop at the queen's insistence before they made their way into the massive city. The place they had decided to stop for the night was at the Crossroads Inn. With the royal family and the lords taking up the rooms the inn offered whilst the rest made do with setting up tents in the surrounding fields.

While the camp was being set up, Arya and Bran had escaped from the hustle and bustle of things. The two of them have decided to go to the Ruby Ford and try and find the rubies that had broken off Rhaegar's armor years ago. The two of them had even brought along a boy their own age who they had befriended on the way south. The boy was called Mycah and he was the son of one of the butchers who was traveling with the King's party down south.

The three children had quickly gotten bored with searching the ford for rubies and had instead decided to play-fight with sticks, doing as children their ages do all over Westeros no matter their standing. As the three fought their mock battles with sticks, Bran's direwolf, Summer and Arya's Nymeria were both frolicking in the water, chasing each other around and play-fighting like the siblings they were.

Their fun was soon brought to an end though by the arrival of Prince Joffrey and his betrothed, Sansa, who was walking her pet direwolf, Lady. Both of them were walking arm-in-arm as they continued on down the banks of the river. The young prince also noticeably had a half-empty wineskin held in his other hand. Bran looked over at the two of them as they approached, taking his eyes off Arya and Mycah, both of whom were currently battling backward and forward with their sticks, locked in a ferociously competitive duel.

"Arya," Sansa said loudly as she looked up in embarrassment, her eyes widening as she saw how her sister was acting so undignified especially in front of the crown prince. Hearing her sister's call, Arya looked around. Mycah oblivious to the new spectators didn't realize the reason for Arya's distracted state and led to him accidentally clip Arya on the arm, causing the younger girl to let out a slight yelp of surprise.

This got the attention of Bran, Joffrey, and Sansa, all of whom looked at the now red-faced Arya. The girl in question feeling quite embarrassed for making such a childish sound. Joffrey sneered as he looked from the ruffled looking Arya and the unkempt Bran with his nose turning up as he looked down on what classed for nobility in the North. Seeing the look of haughty condescension on Joffrey's face and the look of embarrassment Sansa was giving her, Arya felt anger well up inside her.

"What are you doing here? Go away," Arya snapped to the older boy and her sister even as Bran walked over to her side showing her some brotherly support.

Joffrey's face twisted in anger as he heard the tone of the girl before he gained a slightly malicious look as he decided to cause some trouble, egged on by the warm feeling of the wine currently sitting in his stomach.

"Your younger brother and sister I presume? How quaint," Joffrey drawled disdainfully as he looked to Sansa, who answered him with a shameful nod. Seeing that, he then focused in on the peasant boy, easily identifying him as the easiest target for humiliation, while the others were children of the Hand and siblings of his betrothed. He had enough sense to not obviously pick on them or at least not until later. "What about the other one? Who are you, boy?"

"Mycah, my lord," the boy answered nervously, his eyes widening and heart sinking as he found himself confronted by the crown prince.

Sansa looked distastefully down at that boy before she turned to look at Joffrey with adoring eyes. "He's merely the butcher's boy."

Bran decided to speak up at that as he looked at the scared Mycah and angry Arya. "He's our friend."

"Friend?" Sansa scoffed as she looked away from the two of them.

"So he's a butcher's boy who thinks himself a knight and he struck my future goodsister. Let's see how good he is," Joffrey spoke up suddenly his eyes glittering with wicked intent as he drew his sword. A four-foot long sharpened blade with a golden hilt encrusted with precious stones. Giving the blade a few practice swings, he raised his blade as he faced the scared butcher's boy. "If you will excuse me, my lady, I have peasant that needs educating."

Seeing the sharp blade pointed at him, Mycah suddenly felt panic rise up in him as he realized the crown prince was going to force him to fight against a real steel sword with his stick.

"She asked me to, my lord. She asked me to," Mycah said quickly as he backed away, trying to talk the prince down from violence. His eyes flickering to Bran and Arya, pleading for help as he did so.

"That's enough," Bran said as he made to move towards Joffrey. He didn't get far as the older boy pushed him away knocking him to the grass with barely a glance.

This got the attention of the two direwolves, both of whom turned their attention onto the ongoing situation with their hackles raised.

"I'm not your lord, I'm your prince," Joffrey replied his face twisting in anger as he ignored the low-pitched growls. Instead, he was focused on frightening the scared butcher's boy with his sword as he brought the tip of the blade to the boy's cheek, where he began to use a bit of force to cut the boy.

Seeing this, Arya threw caution to the wind as she lost what little control of her temper she had left and shoved Joffrey away from Mycah. Seeing the prince distracted the butcher's boy high-tailed it, heading back to the camp as fast as he could.

"Leave him alone," Arya shouted as she pushed Joffrey.

Stumbling slight Joffrey turned on Arya, his face twisted with rage and his few remaining inhibitions dulled by the alcohol he had consumed. He swung at her, punching her in the face even as he swung his sword at Bran as the younger boy had rushed in to help his sister.

"Stop it! Stop it all of you!" Sansa shouted as Joffrey knocked Arya to the floor before he began trying to hit the nimble Bran with his sword.

"STOP MOVING, YOU LITTLE SHIT! I'LL GUT YOU, YOU LITTLE CUNT!" Joffrey snarled as he kept slashing at the now very scared Bran.

Seeing what was happening to her brother, Arya pushed herself to her feet, her mind hazy with anger. Before she knew what was happening she was lunging for Joffrey, only it wasn't her that was moving. She didn't have four legs and her senses weren't this heightened nor were her vision only in black and white. Pushing this aside for the moment, Arya charged into Joffrey.

The prince screamed shrilly as this happened, his eyes wide in fear.

This confused Arya. Why would the prince be so scared about getting attack by a nine-nameday-old girl?

Twisting her head to the side Arya felt shocked as she saw herself looking back at her from across the field; her eyes met the blank white eyes on her own face as she jolted in surprise. A moment later she collapsed back on the ground, her heart beating like a drum and her breath ragged as she realized she was where she had started who was currently cowering as Nymeria towered above him, her teeth bared as she snarled at him.

"Arya, control your wolf!" Sansa screamed out breaking the sudden tension that had enveloped the area.

Nymeria upon hearing the high-pitched sound of Sansa's voice lunged at Joffrey, her teeth biting down on his arm forcing him to drop his sword and cry out in pain until the wolf let go.

"Nymeria!" Arya shouted as she dragged her wolf away from the now whining and crying prince.

"Oh, gods, my prince. My sweet prince," Sansa said as she rushed to Joffrey's side, not caring to even glance at her siblings.

"Get away from me!" Joffrey snarled back as he clutched his bleeding arm in agony, his face pale and his voice quivering with fear.

The sudden viciousness of his tone made Sansa rear in shock, just as it made Bran angry.

"Don't speak to my sister like that!" Bran shouted as he lashed out and kicked the crying prince in the head, knocking him back onto the ground with a whine.

"Bran!" Sansa shrieked in horror.

"Bran!" Arya said impressed.

"Come on we need to get back to camp!" Bran said taking charge as he pulled his sister after him and made to leave the area, their two direwolves following after him.

"Wait," Arya said as she pulled away from Bran only to grab the prince's fallen sword and throw it into the fast flowing river, a little vindictive last insult to the prince. "Come on then. Nymeria, follow," Arya continued as she now grabbed Bran and dragged him back to camp, both Nymeria and Summer following after them.

Sansa meanwhile had stayed behind, her eyes wide and full of concern and fear as she approached the crying prince. Her eyes moving from his bloody right arm to the clearly broken nose and red swelling that surrounded his left eye.

 **( - )**

 **(Sometime later)**

It was late in the evening and Harry was sleeping in the large oak double bed in his tent with both Daphne and Fleur sleeping in their nightclothes alongside him. Harry's tent was much larger on the inside than it was on the outside. Not hugely larger but large enough to fit the large bed-frame, a heavy wooden desk and chairs, and a trunk. It was large enough to hold a six-foot mirror, one of the few communication mirrors that Fred and George had been able to complete. It was from within this tent that Harry was still able to conduct his business while on the road.

He was able to communicate with the members of the Order left on the Iron Islands just as he was able to talk with Tracey in King's Landing and Hannah in Winterfell. These last few days he had only left the tent when they had been traveling due to the sheer amount of business he had to discuss.

He had to help organize Hagrid's expedition beyond the Wall as well as keeping an eye on the actions of the different guilds and the ongoing investigation into Essos.

In just the last few weeks, the lands surrounding Pentos had been scoured and yet still no sign of Dean had yet been found, leading to the belief that he was possibly dead. The army of the Dothraki had also been tracked from afar, and plans were already in place to assassinate their leader, the elusive Clementine who is said to still be travelling with the army, or if necessary destroy the horde. Blaise was the one leading the operations in Essos and had already, with the help of the Patil twins, begun spreading the Albions' economic, social, and political influence through the Free Cities by laying the foundations for future operations in Essos as they did so.

Hagrid had also assembled his team and had begun their voyage north, hoping to dock at the ruined settlement of Hardhome. His party consisted of twenty centaurs, twenty goblins, and ten wizards, with Neville joining as the leader of the expedition.

So, all in all, Harry had been run ragged trying to manage things from afar. Both Fleur and Daphne had been very helpful with Daphne taking on the responsibility of managing the Albions' affairs in the north and the south while Fleur began to make contacts with the noble houses in the Vale.

They, like Harry, were exhausted and they were all currently laying in bed, sleeping. They hadn't even tried to engage in any intimate activities and were all too tired for such things. Instead, they just wanted to grab as much rest as they could before they were again dragged out of bed to continue their slow journey to King's Landing.

Unfortunately, though their sleep was rudely interrupted by Dwayne, the commander of the Iron Islander guardsmen they had brought with them on their journey down south.

"My lord, you've been passed orders from the king. He commands your presence in the royal tent to deal with some issue between the prince and the Stark children," Dwayne said as he cautiously entered the tent of his lord, wary for any sign of danger as he entered. He could still remember the death and destruction these wizards were capable of when riled up. He had been a guardsman back then too and had only lived thanks to his family begging for his life and had not been found guilty of murder or rape when he had been questioned.

A sudden blast of lightning struck the ground at his feet was evidence enough that he was right to be wary.

"What do you want?" Harry grumbled tiredly as he pushed himself out of bed, his eyes still bleary from sleep as he irritably threw a lightning bolt at the poor guardsman's feet. Not actually meaning to hurt him, just to get across his irritation at being woken up like this. Dwayne nervously repeated what he had said before, his tone cautious as he prepared to flee from his tired and irritable lord if necessary.

Sighing, Harry rose from his bed and climbed out, revealing himself to be completely naked. Turning around, he shifted the covers so that the still sleeping Daphne and Fleur were both covered before he turned to Dwayne.

"My eyes are up here, Dwayne," Harry said bemusedly as he caught the guardsman staring.

"Ermm, yes, my lord," the very embarrassed Iron Islander said. "I have been passed orders from th-"

"Yes. Yes, I know," Harry said as he waved him away with his hand beginning to glow. His clothing was summoned from the cupboard: a pair of black breeches molded themselves to his body even as the black leather boots broke apart mid-air only to seamlessly reform around Harry's feet; a red shirt flowed onto his bare chest like water reforming to reveal a silk tunic with the Albion crest embroidered on the front; and the last thing to come was a thick black dragon-hide coat with collar made of bear fur, which settled on his large frame, making him appear much broader than he was. Reaching out to his desk, he grabbed a black belt which had the Sword of Gryffindor, as well as a Valyrian steel knife he had confiscated from Baelish attached to it. Belting it around his waist and under his coat, he turned to the open-mouthed Dwayne.

Harry found it amusing just how awed the Iron Islanders still were even by the simple household magic he had just used to quickly dress. It was especially amusing as they had already seen the magicals form mighty walls from the ground, expand the dimensions of the Iron Islands, and literally create things from nothing. Yet despite seeing all that, they were still awed by simple household magic that Hogwarts students learned in their second and third year.

"Come on then. Let's see what Robert wants with me," Harry said as he stretched his back, cracking it as he did so. "He better have had me woken up for a reason because otherwise I'll be pissed."

"This way, my lord," Dwayne said nervously as he led the way through the camp, heading towards the Crossroads Inn where the royal family and the Starks were staying.

Sweeping into the inn's main hall and ignoring the multiple Lannister and Baratheon soldiers that lined the walls, Harry approached the king with a confused look on his face as he saw the young Bran Stark and his sister, Arya, standing before the king. Looking around the room, he could see an annoyed looking Lord Stark was present standing behind his two children with a hand on each of their shoulders as he stared stoically back at Robert.

The irritated king was sitting on a large wooden chair. His wife, Cersei, standing at his side fussing over her eldest son, Joffrey, who had his right arm wrapped up in bandages and in a sling, who had what looked like a broken nose and the beginnings of a black eye.

"You summoned me, your grace?" Harry remarked as he picked up the tension in the room, a tension that seemed to emanate from the Lannisters and the Starks.

"Ahh, good. You're here," Robert said gruffly as he looked up at Harry. "Seems a little fight broke out between my son and Ned's children. Neither side seems willing to agree on how the story goes. That's why I've called you here."

"And how can I assist?" Harry said curiously.

"An impartial voice, of course," Robert said he looked between his son and the Stark children. The king was more than happy to let Harry judge the guilty party. After all, if Robert made the decision, he would either have his oldest friends Ned angry at him or he would have his bitch of a wife angry at him. Either way, he would lose. But if he deferred the responsibility onto Harry, claiming that it would be more appropriate for an impartial lord to judge then it was a win-win for him.

Harry raised an eyebrow at that as both the queen and Lord Stark looked to him. He let out a sigh of irritation, cursing Robert in his head for putting him in this situation. "If that is what your grace wills?"

"It is," Robert said the beginning of a smile working its way onto his bearded face as he picked up on Harry's resignation.

"What type of king would allow some lesser lord to judge his son and heir? The Stark children are clearly in the wrong. Just look at Joffrey's face!" Cersei snarled as she glared at Robert.

The king though shrugged off her venomous glare with practiced ease. "That will be for Lord Harry to decide. I wouldn't want to be accused of bias."

"If that is what you command," Ned said with a nod of his head, somewhat surprised by the decision. This type of thinking was not something he had come to expect from Robert.

"Fine," Cersei snapped before she turned her green-eyed gaze on Harry.

Harry let out another sigh. This was not how he wanted to spend his evening. No, he had been more than happy spending his evening cuddled up to Fleur and Daphne in his large warm bed. Not stuck in the middle of a mudslinging contest between the Lannisters and the Starks. "Very well. Would the prince like to state his case?"

Cersei turned to Joffrey at that, before nudging him into speaking.

Joffrey began the story explaining how he had gone on a peaceful and pleasant walk with his betrothed, Sansa, only for him to come across the Stark children fighting with each other like savages. He then told of how he had gone to break up the siblings' fight as his betrothed, Sansa, was clearly distressed by the sight. However, as he had done so, the two Starks had turned on him and attacked him as he was trying to help. He then went on to describe how he was brutally assaulted by the Stark children, and how they set their vicious and feral direwolves on him.

So in all he lied - and lied well - about what had happened. Unfortunately, he was unable to lie to Harry as by using a classic trick used by both Voldemort and Dumbledore. Harry was able to use passive legilimency to glean the truth of Joffrey's words.

Nodding his head, and ignoring the rumbling coming from the watching guardsmen and attending servants. Harry instead turned to the two Stark children, both of whom were looking distinctly uncomfortable despite the comforting grip their father had on their shoulders.

"So what of Bran and Arya's side of the story?" Harry asked as he looked over at Ned, before looking down at Arya, who was glaring at Joffrey, and then to Bran, who was looking at his feet.

With a gentle nudge from Ned, Arya, with the occasional input from Bran, told their side of the story. They told of how they were playing around with sticks by the side of the river and how they had been interrupted by the prince, who had decided to use his position to bully the butcher's boy, Mycah, going so far as to cut his face with his sword. They then told of how Arya had decided to help Mycah by pushing him away, only to be punched by Joffrey, who then chased both of them around trying to kill them with his sword.

"And this Mycah, where is he?" Harry interrupted.

"My men picked him up when Bran and Arya came to me and told me of what happened," Eddard spoke up. "I can have him brought here as a witness."

"You would have a simple uneducated commoner - and a Northern one at that - brought to testify against the crown prince," Cersei scoffed. "How could we trust a word that comes out of his wretched mouth?"

Eddard made to reply but before he could Robert interrupted him.

"Forget the butcher's boy, Harry. Get on with the judging, I need a piss!" Robert shouted loudly as he slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair.

Harry scowled at the interference but did as he was bid. It was hardly a proper trial after all, and he had already decided on what he was going to do. With a gesture, he told the two younger Starks to continue.

With a nod, Arya continued only this time Harry detected a note of confusion in her voice as she spoke of how one of their direwolf pets they had come to their aid by biting the prince's arm and making him drop his sword. After which she told them that she threw Joffrey's sword in the river and then ran back to their father.

Once again Harry used his passive legilimency and was able to pick up that they had lied, not as much as the prince, but they hadn't been completely honest.

"So if that is what happened, how did the prince break his nose and get a black eye?" Harry questioned.

Neither of the Stark children had a response to that.

"All right, so to be blunt neither Prince Joffrey, Arya, or Bran are being entirely honest," Harry said, ignoring the glare he received from Cersei, the bitch already hated him so fuck her.

"What are you talking about, you fool! They admitted to attacking him and an assault on the prince and heir of the kingdom is as bad as an assault on the king!" Cersei exclaimed as her son sent a smug look at the two Stark children or as smug a look as he could give with a broken nose and a black eye. "You said yourself that they are lying! My son will carry a scar for the rest of his life," she continued as she glared at Harry.

"Yes, but they didn't lie as much as your son," Harry replied yet again being blunt and honest. "And since we are apparently not accepting witnesses . . . "

"But my son has a witness: Sansa," Cersei said suddenly, her face lighting up triumphantly as she gestured to the red-haired girl, who was being escorted into the tent by Lannister guards.

"Yes, however, she is the sister of Arya and Bran, and the betrothed of Prince Joffrey. She is not an impartial witness, and so - like the butcher's boy - I will not be taking her testimony into account," Harry replied not even needing to listen to what the girl said as he knew she would support her future husband. The fact that the Queen wanted her to speak was proof enough of that.

Cersei glared at Harry as he said that.

"So what is your judgment, Harry?" Robert said impatiently.

"Well, since both parties lied, I can only consider both parties guilty to some degree," Harry began, choosing his words carefully, as he tried to not to make an enemy of Ned while also not antagonizing the queen any further than he already had. After all, he didn't want her to do something stupid, not if he was going to be living in King's Landing for the next few months until he could lay the foundations for his current plan to come to fruition.

"Therefore, both parties shall be punished equally. I will suggest to Lord Stark that he send Arya and Bran back to Winterfell with their direwolves for the time being," Harry said as he met Ned's stern gray-eyed gaze. "After all, King's Landing is a dangerous place for those not mature enough to deal with it."

It was not the most subtle of statements but Eddard Stark was not the most subtle of men. Either way, Harry managed to get his point across, warning Ned that Cersei would not leave this matter lie especially not with the injuries Prince Joffrey had received and that it would be better for Ned to send both Arya and Bran back to their home until the heat dies down.

Ned nodded at that, heaving a great sigh as he did so. "I will send them back with some of my guardsmen tomorrow."

Both Arya and Bran gave their father a betrayed look, neither of them understanding the danger King's Landing held or how their father was doing what he was to protect them.

"Harsh but fair," Robert said with a nod. "What of Joffrey? What do you suggest for him?"

"I suggest he be confined to the queen's carriage for the rest of the journey and not be allowed to wield another sword until he knows how to use one responsibly," Harry replied with a shrug. Some may see it as a light punishment but, unfortunately, the boy was the crown prince and, more than that, he showed actually injuries of the fight with the Starks.

Cersei nodded stiffly at that, unable to complain that much as it only means she would get to spend more time with her precious son on the way down south. As for the bit about the sword, it was hardly enforceable so she didn't care much for it.

"Good, so both parties are agreed," Robert said loudly as neither Ned or Cersei raised any objections to Harry's decision. "Then let us speak no more about this."

With that said Robert heaved himself to his feet, making it clear that the matter was dealt with. With a nod to Harry and a pat on the shoulder, Robert left the room with the Kingsguard following behind. Soon after the queen left as well, ushering Joffrey out with her. Before she left, however, she turned to look at Harry curiously before giving him a very slight nod as she left the room.

This left Harry alone in the room with Ned, his three children, the Stark guardsmen, and Dwayne.

"Leave us," Ned said as he gestured for his guards to wait outside and for his children to follow. Which they obeyed, although Arya looked defiant as she left, Bran looked ashamed of himself, and Sansa just looked conflicted as she now realized that she would be the only one of her siblings going to King's Landing now.

Seeing the expectant look on Ned's face, Harry gave his guard a significant look, which was acknowledged as he too left the room. This left Harry alone in the room with Ned.

"I hope you understand why I did what I did?" Harry said as he looked over at Ned, absentmindedly throwing up a few simple silencing charms around them as he did so.

Eddard looked at Harry sternly before he let out a sigh, bringing his hands to rub his forehead as he did so. "You were right when you said King's Landing was dangerous."

"Especially when you have pissed off queen wanting revenge for her little brat," Harry added. "Sending both Arya and Bran north will ensure they are safe, the queen's reach is not that long."

Ned nodded again at that as he knew how ruthless the Lannisters could be. "Do you think they will try anything?"

Harry shrugged at that. "I cannot claim to know how the queen's mind works."

"So I've heard that King's Landing is full of snakes. Can I trust you?" Eddard asked as he gave Harry an assessing look.

Meeting his gaze, Harry's eyes locked onto Eddard's.

"I would say yes," Harry said carefully. "I am more than happy to help you run the kingdom, to root out the corruption that infests it just as I am prepared to assist you in finding out who murdered the previous Hand."

Ned stiffened at that his gray eyes now firmly locked on Harry. "So you believe the former Hand was murdered as well?"

"Yes," Harry replied truthfully. After all, he knew exactly who killed Jon Arryn, just as he knew why he was killed. Not that he was going to tell Ned yet, doing so would not suit his plans. Not yet.

 **AN: So the plot thickens. This chapter had a few similarities with canon, but went to show what the presence of Harry and Bran on the trip south changed about it. Joffrey was more hurt than the last time, given injuries that won't soon fade. This of course would lead to bigger consequences occurring, hence why they have been sent back to Winterfell, something that is an appropriate punishment for what happened. Of course there were other reasons behind it.**

 **We also get to see a bit of a reaction to what happened last time.**

 **Next chapter maybe King's Landing, maybe beyond the wall, and maybe Essos.**

 **So yeah I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and everyone please leave a comment or a review.**

 **See you next time.**

 **Seagate.**


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: So here we are with the next chapter of the Road to Hell, it has been a while. Would just like to thank my Beta Foxmac for doing a fantastic job as always.**

 **I hope this chapter goes down well with people as there is a lot happening and it hold many little nuggets that have some importance.**

 **So without further ado please enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

 **(Last time)**

 _Seeing the expectant look on Ned's face, Harry gave his guard a significant look, which was acknowledged as he too left the room. This left Harry alone in the room with Ned._

" _I hope you understand why I did what I did?" Harry said as he looked over at Ned, absentmindedly throwing up a few simple silencing charms around them as he did so._

 _Eddard looked at Harry sternly before he let out a sigh, bringing his hands to rub his forehead as he did so. "You were right when you said King's Landing was dangerous."_

" _Especially when you have pissed off queen wanting revenge for her little brat," Harry added. "Sending both Arya and Bran north will ensure they are safe, the queen's reach is not that long."_

 _Ned nodded again at that as he knew how ruthless the Lannisters could be. "Do you think they will try anything?"_

 _Harry shrugged at that. "I cannot claim to know how the queen's mind works."_

" _I heard that King's Landing is full of snakes. Can I trust you?" Eddard asked as he gave Harry an assessing look._

 _Meeting his gaze, Harry's eyes locked onto Eddard's._

" _I would say yes," Harry said carefully. "I am more than happy to help you run the kingdom, to root out the corruption that infests it just as I am prepared to assist you in finding out who murder the previous Hand."_

 _Ned stiffened at that his gray eyes now firmly locked on Harry. "So you believe the former Hand was murdered as well?"_

" _Yes," Harry replied truthfully. After all, he knew exactly who killed Jon Arryn, just as he knew why he was killed. Not that he was going to tell Ned yet, doing so would not suit his plans. Not yet._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 18**

 **( - )**

 **(In Essos)**

The Dothraki army had come to a stop for the night. Already hundreds of tents were being put up as the Dothraki set up their rough camp on the grassy plains, a group of riders having already been sent out to forage for food and patrol the borders of the camp.

A soft and pained groan could be heard coming from the largest tent in the camp, a tent that had previously belonged to Khal Drogo but had now been taken by the Red Priestess Clementine as her new quarters. The source of the groans came from Lady Clementine herself, the once proud and beautiful woman was now strapped down to a bed, her body covered in slave soaked cloth.

The inside of the tent stank of sickness, and of death. It had been like this for the last three weeks, ever since Clementine had been found unconscious and maimed in the gardens of Pentos. Apparently, the Red Priestess had come across a spy, one who was himself practiced in the art of magic. A fight had ensued as Clementine stopped him from leaving and instead tried to capture him. The fight had not turned out as well as Clementine had thought it would.

The man she thought she had cornered and defeated had decided on a last gambit, he had decided to avoid capture and interrogation by taking his own life, whilst also trying to take Clementine with him. His plan had only partially worked. The man had died; his 'spell' had seen to that, there had been nothing left of him, only a bloody crater in the ground. This had stopped Clementine from capturing and interrogating him, just as his defense of the "messenger owl" had also stopped her from finding out to who he reported.

He had not however managed to kill Clementine, he had come damn close though. The explosion he had caused had hit her head on, it had destroyed her right arm completely just as it had torn her skin to pieces leaving her maimed, crippled and disfigured. The concussive blast of the explosion had also caused significant damage to her internal organs. Even now weeks later she was still coughing up blood, barely clinging to life.

Her injuries had not stopped her, however; instead, they had only fueled her. The moment she had regained consciousness, even though she was still too injured to move from where she lay, she had begun giving out orders. She had ordered the army to begin riding in the direction of Slaver's Bay, to be more exact in the direction of Quarth. There was a certain sect of Sorcerers that Clementine knew there, a sect that, like the worshipers of R'hllor, had gone through something of a magical revival. It was her hope that they would lend their assistance to help her recover faster from this pitiful state.

At the moment though, Clementine was not plotting away; instead, she was lying down on her bedded litter hoping to find some semblance of release from the constant pain that racked her body.

"Servant!" Clementine shouted out, hoping to attract the attention of one of her servants, or an acolyte. "Bring me some more milk of the poppy!" she shouted, her pink eyes tiredly looking around the tent as she tried to draw the attention of one of her attendants.

The sound of her tent flap opening alerted her to the fact that someone had answered her call.

"Illyrio," Clementine said coldly, as she looked at the fat, weak little man who scurried into her tent, a tray bearing a jug and a goblet in his hands. "Finally decided to make yourself useful?"

"M-my Lady," Illyrio stammered nervously as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and drip down his flabby face.

"Well, don't just stand there, you fool, attend me. Give me something for the pain!" Clementine demanded, her already foul temper only made worse by the aches of her wounds, even speaking caused her pain as it caused the damaged and healing skin on her face to stretch.

"A-at once," Illyrio flustered, almost falling over himself as he nervously and cautiously approached the prone Clementine. His small beady eyes, roving over the many blood-stained bandages that covered her before they locked on her cold, cruel eyes. A shiver of fear ran through him, as he filled a goblet up and gave it to the woman who had systematically destroyed his life.

Reaching out clumsily with her left hand, her only remaining hand, Clementine snatched the goblet from Illyrio's nerveless fingers, uncaring that the action caused sharp pains to run through her body. The pain would soon be gone, she had ordered Illyirio to find the finest alchemist in Pentos and have him create draughts that would dull her pain and increase her rate of healing. So far it was working, if only slowly.

Greedily bringing the goblets to her scabbed lips, the Red Priestess greedily drank down the concoction. After taking a few gulps of the liquid, Clementine let out a satisfied sigh, she could already feel her nerves deadening and the pain leaving her, though it did appear the alchemist had changed the dosage as it never worked this well before, she would definitely have to reward him later.

Looking at her now empty goblet, she thrust it back at Illyrio, her eyes turning flinty as she caught the smug and satisfied look that momentarily crossed his face. What the worm had to smile about Clementine honestly did not know. He was probably just enjoying her suffering. Something she would make sure to repay when she got stronger. The fat man would be the first one she would sacrifice as one of the many who would be burnt so she could use their life force to empower her magic. With these unknown magicals interfering in her business, she would need all the help she could get.

"Are you still standing here for a reason?" Clementine sneered as she saw that Illyrio had not yet left.

Illyrio flinched at that, an ugly look momentarily crossing his face before he fled the tent.

Sniveling coward, Clementine thought as she watched him leave. For now, she had more important things to deal with that bringing pain to Illryio. It could wait until she was well enough to properly enjoy it as she had to deal with Viserys' continued attempts to usurp her. He had begun issuing orders to her army and telling them that those orders came from her. Just as he had begun to disobey her himself, it appeared seeing her in this weakened state had given her disciple more a spine than before. He would fall in line soon enough; she would make sure of that.

In a way, Clementine was barely holding onto her power over the Dothraki horde as it was. The savage horsemen had seen her current state and dissension had begun to filter through the ranks, no doubt spurred on by Viserys' foul whisperings. After seeing her in such a weakened state, they had begun to lose their fear and awe of her. It was troubling. Clementine knew that a few of the savages would have already left if it were not for Daenerys.

Daenerys had remained completely loyal. She had been meeting with the former Dothraki leaders, those that had prospered under their old Khals, and had been using her own fire magic to dazzle them, just as she had taken overlooking after Clementine's dragon. Already, the young girl had to make the difficult decision of executing a few Dothraki, punishing them for trying to betray them.

It was difficult for the girl, Clementine knew that. She herself had once struggled with doing what was necessary for the greater good. That was in the distant past when she was a little girl in Asshai and had only just become a Red Priestess with Melisandre had been her first disciple.

Clementine's vision began to blur as she thought of those far off days, back when the world had seemed purer and lighter than it was now when thoughts of the Long Night had been the furthest thing from their minds.

Blinking back her sudden fatigue, Clementine decided she would need to bring Daenerys in just to make sure the girl knew the importance of going to Slaver's Bay, of freeing the slaves and playing on their gratitude to building a holy army of the light. Viserys was unable to see the bigger picture, but Daenerys was. Clementine was firm in her conviction that the young Targaryen Princess would be the one to guide Azor Azhai, the Prince that was Promised, the chosen of the Lord of Light.

Shifting her head to the side, Clementine tried to call for one of her servants so they could summon Daenerys for her. Her words came out as a faint gurgling though. Frowning in confusion, Clementine suddenly doubled over in agony as she felt a sudden burning feeling in the stomach. Her mouth opened wide as she tried to let out a scream of agony, only for a rasping gurgling sound to leave her throat instead. Blinking her eyes in confusion as she uselessly tried to signal someone to help her, Clementine's confused pink eyes came to rest on the goblet of medicine Illyrio had left on the desk beside her bed.

Poison, Clementine thought as the burning feeling spread through her body, her vision darkening as the poison and her horrific injuries took their toll on her. If she had been fully fit, there was a chance she could have fought off the effects or at least fought them off long enough to get a cure or to make a sacrifice to once again extend her own life.

But it was not to be. Clementine was dying she knew that much even as the poison she had ingested was burning through her. Recognizing the effects now as Illyrio had obviously used the Tears of Lys. How else could she have not detected his poison?

The worst thing for Clementine was not that she was dying, she had lived a long life after all. It was that she was being killed by Illryio as she had underestimated the pitiful worm of a man and had never thought he was brave enough to do something like this. It was galling to realize this as she had always expected her killer to be something more. Maybe the Great Enemy recognizing her as the reason for his destruction and striking her down for it. She hadn't thought she would die writhing in agony, in some shit stinking Dothraki tent in the middle of nowhere, poisoned by a feeble excuse for a human being.

She had been alive for nearly two centuries now and for her life to end before she had completed her destiny was a bitter thing for her to deal with. She only wished she had been able to do more but all her hopes rested on her disciples hopefully doing what she had taught them . . .

 **( - )**

 **(In King's Landing)**

Wagons and riders were still pouring through the castle gates, and the yard was a chaos of mud and horseflesh and shouting men, as the king's party rode through the gates of King's Landing, Harry could say with certainty that he loved magic. After all judging by the expressions on the faces of the rest of the party, King's Landing still smelt as bad as the last time he had visited. No doubt the stench of the capital city was if anything worst for the residents of King's Landing than before they had left. After all, they had just spent close to five months out of King's Landing in the fresh country air. Yet again Harry was glad he had magic, just as he was glad he had learned the spell that muffles his sense of smell, he had the shenanigans of the twins whilst at Hogwarts to thank for that. Looking to the side he could see the relieved faces of Daphne and Fleur, as they too saw the reactions of the rest of the column, more than one person leaned over their horse and wretched.

"It stinks like shit doesn't it," Robert said from where he was riding between Harry and Ned, his Kingsguard riding both in front and behind the trio.

"Aye, the smell reflects the people who live here. It stinks like shit because it is full of shit. A word of warning to you Northerners from a friend: don't trust anyone in King's Landing," Robert continued with a bitter look on his face as he looked around in distaste, noting as he did so the cheering commoners and simpering nobles that welcomed him. No doubt these same people would be treating the dragonspawn like this if they had come out the victors. No, as far as Robert was concerned everyone in King's Landing was a worthless shit.

With that said Robert spurred his horse onward, leaving both Harry and Ned behind as he rode further up the column, his Kingsguard riding along with him.

The rest of the journey through King's Landing and into the Red Keep was uneventful. Their arrival in the Red Keep's courtyard, however, was not.

As the riders were getting off their horses, and the servants getting to work unloading the wagons and carriages that accompanied the column, both Harry and Ned were accosted by a particularly smarmy looking servant.

"Welcome, Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. As such, your presence is requested," the servant said as he strode towards the now dismounted Ned before his eyes flickered over to Harry, who had also dismounted by that point. "As the new Master of Ships, your presence is also requested, Lord Albion."

"He does know we just arrived?" Harry questioned in irritation. He had been hoping to have some time to settle in before he had to attend a Small Council meeting. He was conscious of the fact the Oberyn Martell was still in King's Landing, patiently waiting to meet with Harry when he arrived.

"Yes, he is aware. But the matters of state take precedence, so if you'd like to change into something more appropriate . . . " the servant commented, his raised eyebrow telling both Harry and Ned what the arrogant little twat thought of their travel clothes.

"Piss off," Harry replied bluntly and when the man made to speak, Harry leveled a glare that would have made Snape proud at the servant, his eyes flashing ominously.

The servant let out an audible gulp, before regaining his composure. "I shall go and inform Grand Maester Pycelle that you will be coming. Also, Lord Stark, we have given you Lord Arryn's former chambers in the Tower of the Hand, if it pleases you. I shall have your things taken there."

"My thanks," Ned said as he gave the man a tight smile, deciding to be nicer to the servant than Harry. Pulling off his riding gloves and tucked them into his belt, Ned turned around as the rest of his household was coming through the gate behind him. Ned saw Vayon Poole, his own steward, and called out. "It seems the council has urgent need of me. See to it that Sansa finds her bedchamber, and tell Jory to keep her there for now. I don't want her wandering around the Red Keep, at least not until we have settled in." Poole bowed. Ned turned back to the royal steward, the man dithering around as he waited to be dismissed sending Harry slightly nervous looks as he did. "My wagons are still meandering their way through the city. So it looks like what I am wearing at the moment will have to suffice."

As he heard that, the servant nodded, before he quickly turned on his heel and strode off into the Red Keep, no doubt to report to whoever paid him the most on what little he had observed.

"So much for treading carefully," Ned said blandly as he watched the servant disappear into the keep, his usually stoic face showing his amusement at Harry's rather blunt response to the arrogant servant.

"Just playing the game," Harry replied cryptically, not elaborating on his meaning as he took off his own riding gloves and walked into the Red Keep, quickly passing the Iron Throne as he headed in the direction of the Small Council chamber. Trusting Daphne and Fleur to organize their new abode in the Red Keep whilst he was in the meeting, no doubt the two of them would also visit Tracey depending on how long this meeting ran on.

As Harry strode through the Red Keep, he was conscious of Ned following him. Slowing his pace slightly, he allowed the man to catch up as they quickly made their way through the Red Keep, heading in the direction of the Small council chamber.

Luckily Harry remembered with pinpoint accuracy where the chambers were, after all, he had been in them just a year ago, wasn't Occlumency such a handy thing.

The Small Council chamber was a richly furnished room. Myrish carpets covered the floor instead of rushes, and in one corner a hundred fabulous beasts cavorted in bright paints on a carved screen from the Summer Isles. The walls were hung with tapestries from Norvos and Qohor and Lys, and a pair of Valyrian sphinxes flanked the door, eyes of polished garnet smoldering in black marble faces.

Entering the finely furnished room, Harry looked around at those present in the room his eyes flickering from Pycelle to Varys to Baelish and then to Renly, a slight smile now on his face as he gave a short bow to the room.

"Lord Stark, I was grievously sad to hear about your troubles on the King's Road. We have all been visiting the sept to light candles for Prince Joffrey. I pray for his recovery," the Master of Whispers, Varys, said as he greeted Lord Stark, his eyes flickering to Harry as he did before they locked onto Lord Stark.

Harry barely paid attention to the meaningless pleasantries that came next. With the other members of the Small Council giving their condolences for what happened on the road, it was all meaningless. Prince Joffrey had a broken nose and it was nothing to complain about. And with sending back the two younger Stark children and the butcher's boy back to Winterfell, there was nothing more to it. However, formalities had to be followed. So he nodded and laughed along as he greeted each of the Small Council members. Knowing as he did that all these men would happily stab him in the back if it served their purposes. He did note a few oddities, however.

Baelish was being surprisingly civil with him, not even throwing out any backhanded comments or sly digs. It didn't fit with what Harry had come to expect from the man, instead he was being courteous and almost friendly to him, Harry, the person who tricked him out of most of his worldly possessions, Harry instantly knew something wasn't right, and told himself as he did that he would keep a careful eye on Baelish, the man was up to something, why else would he be treating Harry so civilly.

The next oddity he noticed was how enthusiastic Renly was when he was greeting Harry. He had heard from Robert that Renly seemed to be keen on the new exports from the Iron Island, just as he had been told by Fleur that the man hung around Highgarden a lot. Renly was expected to be on good terms but Harry had not expected him to be so enthusiastic or genuine when he was greeting him.

Before he could think any more on it, he was interrupted by the voice of Pycelle, who it appeared had decided to take it upon himself to call the meeting to order.

"This belongs to you now and now we can begin," Pycelle said his attention on Ned, as he gave the northern Lord a hand shaped metal badge, the same one that had once been pinned on Jon Arryn's tunic, the Hand of the King's badge of office.

Seeing this Harry had to wonder if he got a nice ship badge to show he was Master of Ships. Somehow he doubted it though.

"Should we not wait for the King before we begin?" Ned asked with a frown on his face as he looked around at the other members of the Small Council, who didn't looked surprised as the King wouldn't be joining them at the meeting. Neither was Harry. From speaking with Robert, he knew the only interests the King had when it came to the running of his kingdom was war and the Targaryens, and if a meeting wasn't about those two things, then Harry doubted Robert would show up.

"Winter may be coming but I am afraid the King won't be. My brother cares little for the day to day tasks that involve the running of his Kingdom, why he chose us to deal with what he does not want to in his stead," Renly answered with an uncaring expression on his face as he took his seat at the Small Council table. The rest of the Council taking their seats as well, all of them sat in such a way that they were facing Ned, who, as Hand of the King, was the leader of the Council.

"His Grace has many cares and thus he only trusts some small matters to us that we might lighten the load," Varys explained, using a much more diplomatic language to explain Robert's absence to the Northern Lord.

"We are the Lords of all small matters here," Petyr Baelish added in with a hint of amusement in his voice as he looked around the room, his gaze meeting Harry's as he gave him a nod.

That was more like the Petyr Baelish that Harry had heard about. Still, something was off about him as he was acting too normal. He should be at least a little hostile to Harry but he was acting as if Harry had not cheated him out of his fortune, his brothels, and much of his power and influence. Harry was quickly beginning to suspect something magical was involved as why else would the snake-like man be acting so amicably.

Some might claim it was all an act but Harry was a good judge of character, and his enhanced senses and skill with passive legilimency allowed him to tell when someone was lying or being dishonest.

"My brother has instructed us to stage a tournament in honor of Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King. We are to apparently spare no expense," Renly said as he looked at a letter he had received before coming to the meeting, before he handed the letter to Ned, allowing the man to see the veracity of what he had said.

Hearing the statement Baelish let out a slight hissing sound, gaining the attention of the rest of the room. Harry already had an idea about what he would say next. After all, he had been through the man's books and had seen how he had put the Crown into massive debt. No doubt he had put the Crown into even more debt over the last year when Jon Arryn made a real mistake in keeping the man around.

"How much?" Baelish asked while he looked over his ledger, a quill in hand as he prepared to write in the appropriate amount.

"Forty thousand gold dragons to the champion, twenty thousand to the runner up, and another twenty thousand to the winner of the archery," Ned answered grimly, his brow furrowed in concern as he heard the proposed amount. Baelish nodded as he diligently wrote it down in his ledger.

"So eighty thousand gold pieces," he said with a nod of his head. "And we must not neglect the other costs. Robert will want a prodigious feast. That means cooks, carpenters, serving girls, singers, jugglers, fools-"

"Fools we have in plenty," Lord Renly interjected with an amused smirk on his face as he looked around the room pointedly.

Grand Maester Pycelle looked to Baelish at that, ignoring Renly's comment as he did so. "Will the Treasury bear the expense?"

"What Treasury?" Baelish replied with a twist of his mouth. "Spare me the foolishness, Maester. You know as well as I that the Treasury has been empty for years. I'll have to borrow it. Fortunately, the Lannisters will accommodate as expected if asked. We already owe Lord Tywin three million gold dragons. What's another eighty thousand more?" As he saw the look on Ned's face, Baelish shrugged with an apologetic look on his face as he looked to Ned.

"Are you telling me that the Crown is three million dragons in debt?" Ned asked a thunderstruck expression on his face.

"I'm telling you that the Crown is nearly nine million dragons in debt," Baelish replied calmly, speaking of the massive debt the crown was in like it was normal and nothing to worry about.

"King Aerys left a Treasury flowing with gold. How could you let this happen?!" Ned asked aghast as he glowered angrily at Baelish before he turned his glare on the rest of the Small Council. The frugal Lord Stark was incensed at these supposedly wise and powerful men for letting the Crown get so deep in debt. It was the type of debt that could cripple a Kingdom.

"It's simple. The Master of Coin finds the money, it is the King and the Hand that spend it," Baelish replied maintaining his calm demeanor, not at all bothered by the anger of Lord Stark.

"I will not believe Jon Arryn let King Robert bankrupt the realm," Ned replied angrily, not understanding how this happened.

"Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice but I fear his Grace has little sympathy for such matters and paid it little mind," Pycelle said surprisingly coming to Baelish's defense, though it was more likely that he was covering his own ass as well. The rest of the Council stayed silent as all of them were already aware of the dire state of the Crown's Treasury. Even Harry knew about the situation even after Tracey had taken over the running of Baelish's businesses. She had made sure to investigate his dealings, including his obscene embezzlement of money from the Crown.

"Counting coppers he calls it," Renly said with a chuckle of amusement more than used to his brother's irresponsibility.

"Nine million gold dragons?" Harry suddenly spoke up, getting the attention of the rest of the room. He already had ideas swimming through his head as he looked around at his fellow Small Council members. "I believe I may have a proposition for the Council, one that will help the Crown out of its debt."

Now that got the attention of the rest of the room. Baelish frowned slightly as he looked at Harry in confusion. Renly, however, had a look of interest on his face as he leaned forward in his seat with a faint smile on his face. Pycelle frowned slightly, somewhat taken aback by Harry's words, as if he was surprised the upstart Iron Islander was daring to speak.

Ned, though, looked at Harry sharply, before he gestured for him to continue.

"House Albion will cover the Crown's debts, clearing them away," Harry said as he thought about how paying out nine million gold dragons would affect their funds. The Order had accrued much gold over the last year from both trade and their other dealings. This sudden influx of wealth had been added to the gold they had brought with them, stolen from the vaults beneath Gringotts and added to the Order's war chest. The amusing thing was that a part of the money House Albion now possessed had been taken from Baelish, who had stolen the money in the first place from the Crown. So essentially he was offering to pay the Crown's debts with money that had originally been stolen from them. All in all, nine million gold dragons would not put that much of a dent into their funds or at least temporarily giving the Crown nine million gold wouldn't. After all, there were ways in which that gold could be acquired.

"A generous offer, Lord Albion," Renly said up with a nod of his head as he smiled in Harry's direction.

"Indeed, I hadn't realized you possessed such wealth," Baelish spoke up blandly.

"You would give the Crown nine million gold dragons?" Ned asked in surprise his eyebrows raised in confusion.

Harry frowned at that. "I wouldn't say I am giving it to the Crown. After all, you don't get something for nothing."

Ned frowned as he waited for Harry to expand on his point.

"I heard that Harrenhal and its lands have been in dispute for years now. With the last of the Whents dead, the land and its great castle have been left empty as no other House has a good enough claim to take possession of it and had reverted back to the Crown. The Lordship of Harrenhal in return for House Albion paying off the Crown's debts," Harry said his mind spinning as he thought about the benefits of owning a massive stronghold in the center of Westeros, one that could be easily fixed up with magic. It would be a great boon economically, politically and militarily.

" a large demand," Pycelle said in a blustery tone. "The Lordship of Harrenhal cannot just be given away as a favor. There is a proper procedure for these things."

Harry sent Pycelle a cold look as he said that, his eyes flashing red as he did so.

The old man's mouth went dry at that, his words died in his mouth.

Ned furrowed his brow, not paying attention to Pycelle or Harry as he instead thought on Harry's suggestion. It was a big demand but he was offering significant gold. This was not something Ned had been expecting to deal with on his first day in King's Landing as the Hand of the King.

"I will pass on your offer to the King," Ned replied with a frown, already thinking over the pros and cons of Harry's offer.

"As you will, Lord Hand," Harry replied, confident that Robert would not care about the logistics. Instead, it is more likely that he just wouldn't care and give Harry Harrenhal just because he currently favored him. Plus, the King would, no doubt, hear about the nine million gold dragons and no monetary dependence on the Lannisters, he would jump at it.

"I'll speak to him tomorrow," Ned said, his mind made up. "For now though I believe this tournament is an extravagance that we cannot afford, not until we deal with the Crown's debt."

"As you will, but it is best we make plans," Baelish replied while making notes in his ledger. All the same, he had not raised any objections to Harry's offer nor had he made any negative comments.

Once again Harry was suspicious of Baelish as he was out of character. He made a note to talk with Tracey later as Harry had a sneaking suspicion that she had gone behind his back and done something to Baelish.

 **( - )**

 **(Beyond the Wall)**

It was cold and windy north of the Wall, more so at sea. The crew of the large ship currently plowing its way through the partially iced over waters of the North could attest to that. The Remnant had set sail again; the massive ship of the line was just as sturdy as it had been when it had attacked the Iron Islands. A handful of rune cannons were still present on the ship, manned as they were by a dozen goblins that had volunteered to go on the expedition beyond the Wall to look for ore deposits in the more mountainous regions in the Far North.

The expedition was made up of another twenty-five people after that: ten centaurs, fourteen wizards and witches, and the last was Hagrid. A few of them were at the moment on the ship's deck, bundled up against the icy cold wind as no amount of warming charms could dampen the bone deep chill prevalent this far north of the Wall.

Packed in the large ship's stores was enough food for at least three months as well as some horses that were, currently, enchanted asleep. There were also clippings of the many magical plants cultivated on the Iron Islands and a quantity of other supplies necessary for the expedition.

The focus of their mission was to discover whether there were any magical plants and animals beyond the Wall as well to set up base in the ruins of Hardhome for future expeditions and to look into magic's existence, in general, beyond the Wall.

Both Neville and Hagrid had been put in charge of the expedition. Neville was leading the search for new magical plants and Hagrid was leading the search for new magical creatures. The group of goblins had their own leader, Gutrotter, who had also been put in charge of properly fortifying the new base at Hardhome through use of goblin wards and a few nasty curses. These were to be added to the transfigured defenses the wizards would create upon reaching the ruined city beyond the Wall.

"Everyone up on deck!" Neville called out as he looked out over the bow of the ship, his eyes narrowed against the cold biting wind. Watching as the shoreline loomed out of the swirling mist. "We are about to make land!"

What followed next was a flurry of activity as multiple wizards, witches and goblins who were on the deck searching for land rushed to join Neville where he was stood.

More commotion came from below deck as the rest of the expedition team left the warmth of the ship's cabins and braved the cold, near arctic winds of the North.

The most imposing of these was Hagrid. The massive ten-foot tall half-giant, having dropped what he was doing - preparing the trapping equipment and cages below deck - and instead stepped out into the wind, not bothered by the cold as he lumbered over to the side of the ship, his dark eyes squinted as he looked into the wind.

Looking up at the much larger man, Neville couldn't help but be awed by just how big he was. Neville had thought the Mountain That Rides was big when he had fought him but Hagrid made Gregor Clegane look like a pebble. The half-giant towered over the rest of the crew, even more than usual as he was currently clad in a mix of thick heavy furs and goblin-forged steel. His shoulders alone were easily as wide as a man was tall. Currently strapped to the half-giant's back was a crossbow that looked more like ballistae, and belted to his hip was a mace of about four foot long and ended in a massive bladed steel weight. Hagrid's mace alone probably weighed as much as a full grown man.

Neville was glad the half-giant was on their side.

"Prepare to go ashore! We've reached Hardhome!" Hagrid called out, his dark eyes narrowed as he saw the ruined remains of what had once been a small settlement beyond the Wall that had apparently been destroyed by invaders many years ago. "The sooner we set up the base, the sooner we can get on with exploring this wasteland!"

"There are some rocks up ahead!" one of the other wizards called out as he stood at the prow of the ship, taking note as he did so of the jagged rocks that could be seen protruding from the sea.

"Prepare the rune cannons!" Neville shouted as the goblins rushed to the large magic-powered weapons. "Blast the rocks away. Turn them to rubble. The strengthened hull will do the rest. Wizards, get on the side of the ship and uses some bombarding and reductor curses. We want to get as close to shore as we can."

What followed next was a series of loud explosions, as the goblin-manned cannons and wizards did their work. Blasting away any rocks they could see sticking out of the water. As they were doing this, the ship continued its journey. The magic-reinforced hull breaking through both waves, ice, and rubble alike as it forged onward, heading in the direction of Hardhome.

( - )

 **(In Essos)**

"So she's dead then?" Viserys asked as he looked down at Clementine's bloody corpse, his gaunt face set in a look of distaste as the metallic scent of blood filled his nose and almost made him wretch.

Illyrio gave the Targaryen Prince a blunt look.

"What will we do now?" Daenerys asked tearfully as she tried to avoid looking at the dead body. The woman had been her mentor, someone who saw her for herself and helped her become a stronger and better person. Seeing her like this was disconcerting for Daenerys, though apparently not so for Viserys, who just looked at her dead body with indifference.

They had been called to the tent barely ten minutes ago, by one of Clementine's rather frantic acolytes sent to them by Illyrio. Apparently, Illyrio had found her like this when he had come to deliver her meal.

"Do?" Viserys asked as he turned to look at his sister with a disbelieving look on his face. "What do you mean what are we going to do? We are going to do what we should have from the start; we are going to go back to Pentos, get some ships, and transport our army across the Narrow Sea and take the Iron Throne!"

"But Clementine said that we should go to Slavers Bay. She said that we need to bolster our army as well as a place to-" Daenerys began as she was confused by the way her brother was talking.

"Our army? This isn't our army. This is _my_ army. As such I will take _my_ army and retake the Iron Throne. There isn't a force alive that could match an army of sixty thousand Dothraki Screamers and three dragons," Viserys interjected as he glared at his sister. Clementine had gotten him his army and taught him her magic, which was all he needed from her. It was actually probably a good thing she was dead. If not, they would be wandering around Essos for the next few years bolstering their numbers.

Daenerys flinched as she heard her brother's tone. It was a tone he had not used for a long while which was soon followed by his declarations of her "waking the dragon".

"But we are not ready to go to Westeros, Clementine said so. She sai-" Daenerys began as she decided to tempt fate and talk her brother out of his rash actions.

She was not able to finish, however, as Viserys turned around and slapped her across the face as hard as he could, knocking her to the floor with a cry. Looking up in shock, her hand clutching the bright red mark on her face, Daenerys felt a shiver of fear run down her spine as she saw the look on her brother's face.

"I don't care what she said. She is dead and so it doesn't matter. Only what I say matters, and I say we are going to Westeros," Viserys snarled down at his sister.

"I-I won't go with you," Daenerys replied nervously as she pushed herself to her feet. A year ago she would not have even dared challenge her older brother like this but she wasn't able to use magic back then. A year ago she did not have a dragon nor was she as confident and secure in herself as she is now.

Viserys' eyes widened at her insolence before his gaze darkened. "You will do as I tell you. You will come with me and do your duty. It is about time you start making use of those birthing hips. When we go to Westeros, you will come with me. I think it's time that we start creating the next generation of Targaryens."

Daenerys backed away at that, her eyes widening as she realized what he was talking about. He wanted to force her to marry him, to become his sister-wife. The thought of it disgusted her.

"Now come along, sweet sister. We can start now . . . tonight . . . " Viserys began as he took a step towards his sister, his eyes gleaming in the light from the brazier.

Before he could take another step, he was distracted by a sudden roaring sound, followed by screams of fear and agony. Turning on his heel, his sister forgotten, Viserys swept back the flap of the tent to see what the commotion was. As he did so, his eyes widened in shock and fear.

Seeing her brother's back turned, Daenerys decided to escape now while she could. Without Clementine around to hold his leash, her brother had gone out of control. Daenerys would not suffer under it, not when she could escape his clutches. Turning to the wall of the tent, Daenerys sent a blast of fire from her palms, burning through the tent fabric.

Not even looking back, Daenerys ran through the opening and into the panicking camp, heading in the direction of her black dragon, Aegon. With Clementine gone and her brother apparently more unhinged than before, she wasn't going to stay here. She was going to get her dragon and flee.

 **( - )**

 **(A few minutes earlier)**

Blaise looked over at the horde of Dothraki before him. They had camped down on a large open field, completely covered in long grass. It was colloquially known as the Grass Sea and looking at it now Blaise could see why it was given that name. Letting out an impatient sigh, he looked at the eleven other wizards with him. All of them, like him, were under a disillusionment charm. But despite that, he could still see the distortion in the air where each of them was standing.

Looking back out at the large camp, Blaise let out another sigh as he didn't like waiting.

As if reading his thoughts, a soft popping sound announced the arrival of the scout Blaise had sent to the camp. Removing his disillusionment charm, Blaise took a step towards where he believed his scout was. "What do you have to report?"

"Good news and bad," Seamus Finnegan said as he pulled off the invisibility cloak he had been wearing, loaned to him by Harry.

"The good news then," Blaise requested as the rest of his team began to reappear around him, all of them removing their disillusionment charms after Blaise did.

"The Red Priestess is dead, apparently poisoned by someone we don't know who," Seamus replied grimly, a dark expression on his face as he spoke of the woman who was responsible for Dean's disappearance.

"Good," Blaise grunted. "Saves us some work. What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that one her disciples, Viserys Targaryen, had taken advantage of the situation and has more or less taken over," Seamus snarled, an ugly look on his face as he thought about his missed chance of vengeance.

Blaise was not amused by Seamus' statement. Instead, he looked grimly over at the Dothraki camp and noted at how vast this army of savages was. Sixty thousand seasoned warriors and it was a force that would storm through Westeros, causing untold damage and threatening Albion's rise to prominence if they ever got across the Narrow Sea. Blaise would see to it that they never got the chance.

"So does that mean our mission is complete?" Winston, a member of Blaise's strike team asked as he looked to his masked leader.

Blaise looked coldly over at the man who asked. "No, we are not finished here. It's time we go through with Plan B."

Winston paled drastically at that as the other members of the team all shifted uncomfortably but didn't question him.

Seamus nodded at that, his face grim. "Plan B it is. Any objections?"

"It's not right," Winston suddenly spoke up, his voice an octave higher than usual as Blaise leveled his glare at him.

"No, it's not right, but it's necessary," Blaise bluntly said before he looked to the group. "Take your pre-planned positions and wait for my signal."

The group of wizards and witches nodded, as they all cast their disillusionment charms onto themselves and what followed was a series of pops as they apparated away. Traveling to positions they had already scouted out earlier that evening while they were preparing for the mission.

"Not you," Blaise said harshly as he grabbed Winston by the shoulder before he could leave. "You're going to stay where I can keep an eye on you."

Winston nodded at that, knowing better than to argue with Blaise, Harry's right-hand man and one of the most deadly warriors in the Order.

"Wand out, boy," Blaise ordered as he pulled out his own rarely used wand. Normally he relied on using his ritually gained wandless magic the same as Harry and Neville. However, for a spell like this, he would need to use a wand to properly focus and control it.

Seeing Blaise pull out his wand, Winston nodded nervously as he, too, pulled out his own wand. He had been picked for this mission because he was a strong wizard with good control over his magic as well as he had helped Blaise put down an enemy stronghold during the invasion of the Iron Islands. This, though, was on a different scale.

Raising his wand into the air, Blaise fired red sparks into the sky, giving the signal for the rest of his team.

Scowling as he looked down at the horde of savages camped in the plains in front of him, Blaise raised his wand.

" _Fiendfyre!"_ Blaise shouted as his wand weaved through a set of complicated motions. What came next was an explosion of roaring golden fire that burst forth from Blaise's wand. The sea of cursed fire quickly spread across the grassy plains consuming all in its path as it charged towards the Dothraki camp.

Alongside Blaise, Winston conjured his own fiendfyre, which merged with Blaise's as it rapidly spread. Winston let out a gasp as he felt the strain of trying to control the potent and deadly fire even as his control was slipping.

At eleven other points around the massive Dothraki camp, the other members of the team released their own streams of fiendfyre, heading in the direction of the Dothraki horde.

Blaise narrowed his eyes as he saw the flames strike the camp, tearing through anything that got in its way. With a grunt of exertion, Blaise sent another set of red sparks into the air before he tore his wand away from the stream of cursed fire, breaking off his connection to it as well as his control. Seeing this, Winston thankfully did the same, his mind and body now aching from the strain of trying to control something that wild and uncontrollable.

Grabbing the tired Winston by the shoulder, Blaise apparated away quickly, moving fast as he saw the now uncontrolled fire heading in all directions, continuing to spread across the Grass Sea into the Dothraki horde as it did so. For how long it would continue its rampage Blaise didn't know, but what he did know was that this army would never be a threat to Westeros or House Albion.

 **AN: So yeah I hope it was worth the wait, as I said an awful lot of things happened. What will the reaction be like? What will happen to the Targaryens? How will things go beyond the North? What is brewing in King's Landing? So yeah a lot of things are happening.**

 **I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter and would love to hear from you so please leave a comment or a review.**

 **Have put a poll up on my bio page as I have decided to plan out an update routine for my stories so have a look if you want.**

 **So I will see you next time with a fresh update.**

 **Thanks again to my Beta Foxmac for all her ideas and help when it came to writing this chapter.**

 **Seagate.**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Well here is the next chapter of the Road to Hell. Hope you all have had a good New Year!**

 **Have to say it has been a while since this has been updated which I apologize for, I have been spending a lot of time on updating some of my other stories. That being said there hopefully won't be that big a gap between the next chapter. Nowhere near as big a gap as we have for the last Game of Thrones season, because seriously, 2019, that's ages away. So the last season better be exceptional. As the latest series was hit and miss, with some episodes being awesome and others being a bit meh. Though I suppose that could be blamed on the fact they are passed the books and so can't use George Martin's work.**

 **But anyway here is the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy it.**

 **I would like to thank Fozmac my Beta writer for having a look through this for me, I appreciate all her hard work.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Game of Thrones series.**

 **( - )**

 **(Last Time)**

 _Raising his wand into the air, Blaise fired red sparks into the sky, giving the signal for the rest of his team. Scowling as he looked down at the horde of savages camped in the plains in front of him, Blaise raised his wand._

 _"Fiendfyre!" Blaise shouted as his wand weaved through a set of complicated motions. What came next was an explosion of roaring golden fire that burst forth from Blaise's wand. The sea of cursed fire quickly spread across the grassy plains consuming all in its path as it charged towards the Dothraki camp._

 _Alongside Blaise, Winston conjured his own fiendfyre, which merged with Blaise's as it rapidly spread. Winston let out a gasp as he felt the strain of trying to control the potent and deadly fire even as his control was slipping._

 _At eleven other points around the massive Dothraki camp, the other members of the team released their own streams of fiendfyre, heading in the direction of the Dothraki horde._

 _Blaise narrowed his eyes as he saw the flames strike the camp, tearing through anything that got in its way. With a grunt of exertion, Blaise sent another set of red sparks into the air before he tore his wand away from the stream of cursed fire, breaking off his connection to it as well as his control. Seeing this, Winston thankfully did the same, his mind and body now aching from the strain of trying to control something that wild and uncontrollable._

 _Grabbing the tired Winston by the shoulder, Blaise apparated away quickly, moving fast as he saw the now uncontrolled fire heading in all directions, continuing to spread across the Grass Sea into the Dothraki horde as it did so. For how long it would continue its rampage Blaise didn't know, but what he did know was that this army would never be a threat to Westeros or House Albion._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 19**

 **( - )**

 **(With Blaise in Essos)**

The acrid stench of burnt flesh and smoke filled Blaise's nostrils as he looked over what had once been the Grass Sea. Where once there were countless miles of long grass as far as the eye could see, covering vast swathes of Essos, there was now nothing but black burned earth and ash. Even now many hours later when the cursed fire had run out of magic and flesh to consume, he could still feel the heat and see smoke rising up from the earth.

Currently he was standing in the centre of what had been the camp for a horde of Dothraki numbering close to sixty thousand. All he could see though was death, for miles in every direction there was nothing but destructions. Sixty thousand men and women dead, all in a matter of hours as fiendfyre, an eldritch dark fire that consumed anything in its path devoured them. The wild fire spreading for hours destroying anything in its path, its semi sentient golden flames taking on the forms of mythical beasts as it hunted for its prey.

Truly it was one of the most power and most vile of the spells in a wizards arsenal. The sheer amount of death and destruction that could be cause by this spell was breathtaking. Still though it was better than the alternative, or at least in Blaise's mind it was.

If an army like the one which had once been camped here had managed to make its way to Westeros. Well the consequences could have been terrible. It could be argued that House Albion could have used its fleet to intercept the army whilst it was crossing the Narrow Sea. But there was a risk in that, there was a chance some of the fleet could slip through. All it would take was for one of the Targaryens and a part of their force to reach the mainland of Westeros and there could have been war.

The past few decades since the Targaryen family had been usurped and replaced by Robert Baratheon, they had not been good. Families like the Lannisters were gaining more and more power, alienating the other Noble Houses. Worse still Robert's excesses required more and more money to be taxed from the realm causing an increase in poverty and a decrease in the general quality of life for the smallfolk and growing resentment from the nobles and merchants, not helped along by Littlefinger's embezzlement.

As Harry had once mention to him, Westeros was like a powder keg ready to explode. All it would take was a single spark for it to ignite, and then . . . Well, then, there would be war, death and destruction on a scale that eclipsed what had happened here. Not even magic could stop this, for all its wonder and majesty it was not a fix all. Especially not when there were so few wielders and yet so many angry and resentful people in this world. That is why Blaise had gone through with what he had, destroying the Targaryen's army before they even had a chance to get a foothold on Westeros.

Before he had come to Essos the possibility of this course of action had been discussed, just as the assassination of key figures and possible ways to disperse the horde or cause infighting had been. All options had been looked at and assessed, and this one had been seen as the most effective and most efficient. Certainly more than killing the Red Witch and causing infighting amongst the leaderless army, that solution had too many variables for Blaise's tastes. Evidenced by the fact that when Clementine had died, Viserys had simply taken over the reins.

Still though the deed was done and as Blaise looked around at the destruction he had wrought, the words once written by the muggleborn poet, Percy Shelly, crept into his mind:

'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:  
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'  
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay  
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare  
The lone and level sands stretch far away

Those words he had read in his youth rang through his mind as he looked out across the countless miles of destruction and death, caused by a simple decision made thousands of miles away by a group of wandering magicals numbering barely six hundred. Sixty thousand lives snuffed out and a land irrevocably changed, and why? So that the magicals could forge a new home in this primitive world of death and chaos.

Blaise shook his head, pushing those maudlin thoughts away as he instead took one last look at the consequences of his decision. Before glancing over at the rest of his team, all of whom were also staring out at the vast barren wasteland, one that had once been a verdant sea of grass.

"The army is gone, if there are any survivors they will be too few in number to pose a threat to us." Blaise said his voice coming out cold and devoid of emotion, as he reached inside his robes and pulled out a length of robe. A portkey, a complicated magical device that took quite a bit of skill to make. Once there had been an entire Ministry Department who manufactured them, now it was down to the Order to create them. Extending the robe in his hand and watching as all the members of his team grabbed a hold of it.

Blaise glanced around once more, looking out over the area that would soon come to be known as the wastelands of Essos wondering if he did if anyone could have gotten ahead of the fire and escaped its grasp. Before with another shake of his head he then spoke out the portkey's activation phrase. "Albion Rises."

 **( - )**

 **(With the Lannisters in King's Landing)**

"Ow," Joffrey yelped, a scowl crossing his face as he glared across the table at his mother who at that moment was carefully unwrapping the bandages that covered his injured arm. This for Joffrey was a novel experience, he was not at all used to being the one in pain, since usually he was the one inflicting it on others.

It was not an experience he enjoyed both because of the pain and all because of the disappointment he could see in his father's eyes whenever the man looked at him. Disappointment that he had allowed himself to be injured by a beast and a boy, and disappointment that he did not grit his teeth and bare his wounds like a man.

"They are well on the way to healing. A few more days and you won't have to have them wrapped up anymore," Cersei replied gently, undeterred by her son's foul temper. As she instead dabbed some healing ointment on his injuries.

"They're ugly. I'll always remember them even after they're gone," Joffrey responded softly, looking at the red puckered skin where the direwolf had bitten him, before his other hand absently came up to his face, feeling his slightly crooked and swollen nose. Luckily the swelling had gone down a bit, and his nose had been reset so it didn't look quite as hideous as it could have.

Still though, a look of faint disgust on his face at the idea of having a permanent reminder of being beaten down by children and his father's disappointment. His temper turning fouler than ever as he clenched his hand into a fist, feeling the anger and resentment in him building up.

"Think of them as battle scars. All kings should have scars. You fought off a direwolf and an assault by some Northern savages, protecting your bride to be as you did so. You should be proud of them. These scars will show you are a warrior. Like your father," Cersei said gently, her green eyes flashing with anger as she saw the damage done to her Joffrey's beautiful face. Her anger building at the temerity of Stark and his brood to cross House Lannister like they did.

"I'm nothing like him. I didn't fight the direwolf, I didn't even get the chance, I saw it jump at me and I panicked. I didn't even fight the Stark boy, I just let him hit me in the face. What's worse is that the two Stark girls saw it," Joffrey replied his embarrassment leading to anger as his fist began to shake.

"That's not true. You held your own against a direwolf and protected those two Stark girls. Remember, my son, my wonderful lion, despite what you say or what is told, one day you will sit on the throne and the truth will be whatever you make it," Cersei explained, after all history was written by the victor. Robert Baratheon had proved that much, the man had been a rebel and a usurper, but because he had defeated the Targaryen's he was seen by many as a hero.

Joffrey's scowl lessened as he heard this, his hand moving down from his crooked nose and instead beginning to tap rhythmically on the table in front of him. His green eyes locking with his mother's as he decided to ask a question that had been on his mind a lot of late.

"Do I have to marry the Stark girl?" Joffrey finally asked, showing his lack of excitement for the prospect of marrying the simpering Stark wench. A decision his father had made with the Hand of the King, not even asking for Joffrey or his mother's opinion before he agreed to his old friends demands. After all for what other reason would Joffrey be being married off to some plain Northerner?

"If your father wishes it and the girl's father agrees, then yes you must. For the duty of your House, if only that. But if you truly want to marry her, then you will. If you want to go out and fuck whores, then you can. You are my darling boy. My strong little lion and the world will be exactly as you want it to be when you're the king," Cersei replied after a few seconds, a faint look of distaste passing over her face at the thought of her son marrying Sansa Stark. Still though the situation could be useful, already she had the girl fawning over her every word. It would not take much to begin using the girl to spy on her father, after all having a spy, even an unaware one, in such proximity to the Hand of the King would certainly be useful.

Joffrey didn't reply to that, instead looking away from his mother with a scowl, instead staring out of a nearby window.

Letting out a sigh at her son's childishness Cersei eventually spoke again. "Do something nice for the Stark girl."

"I don't want to do anything nice for her," Joffrey countered his lip curling in distain at having to lower himself to dealing with the waif of a girl. He had better things to do after all, like tormenting his siblings, or making plans for when his father finally keeled over and Joffrey became the most powerful person in the Seven Kingdoms.

"But you will do it. The occasional kindness spares you lots of trouble down the road and help win you her heart and the hearts of others. Take it from someone who knows this to be true," Cersei replied oblivious to Joffrey's thoughts, as she instead attempted to pass on some lessons in manipulation and deceit to her son, things he would certainly need if he were to become a participant in the Game of Thrones alongside herself.

Joffrey reluctantly nodded at that, humoring his mother so she would stop badgering him. A few seconds later though he let out another sigh, his irritation getting the best of him as he decided to share some of his thoughts. "We allow the Northerners too much power. Houses like the Starks and the Albions. They consider themselves our equals!"

Cersei cocked an eyebrow at this sudden tangent, surprised that her son was thinking of such things.

"And how would you handle them once you became king?" Cersei finally asked, leaning back in her chair and giving her son a curious look.

"Easy. I would double their taxes and command them to supply ten thousand men to the Royal Army," Joffrey answered without pausing, giving voice to thoughts that had been swirling through his mind ever since they had left Winterfell.

"The Royal Army?" Cersei questioned an eyebrow raised in curiosity as she pondered where her son was going with this. "We have no such army, my son."

"Well, we should have one. Why should every lord command his own men? It's primitive during these modernized times. It's no better than the Hill Tribes that roam freely in the North and those running around in the Vale. We should . . . we should have a standing army of men loyal only to the crown. Trained by the most experienced soldiers rather than the sniveling mob of cowardly peasants who have never held a sword or pike in their hands," Joffrey replied fiercely, thinking back to the Albion guardsmen, all of them were large muscled men, clearly experienced and wearing heavy plate armor. Armor that the Iron Islands was quickly getting famous for, already his Uncle Jamie had a set of tournament armor made for him by the smiths of the Iron Islands.

After seeing those men Joffrey had begun to realise how useful an army of fully trained soldiers would be, and how dangerous allowing the other Houses to have such armies could be.

"And if the Northerners rebel against you?" Cersei asked since she saw that as a distinct possibility, after all the Northerners were a prideful and stubborn lot, already they were less than happy with the crown's taxation. Things could escalate very quickly if they were not careful.

"Then I will crush them! I will seize Winterfell and install a Warden of the North loyal to the crown. Uncle Kevin maybe. He's seems like a very capable man for such a position," Joffrey answered with a scowl, before a look of irritated confusion crossed his face as he saw Cersei shake her head.

"With these ten thousand Northern troops you commanded to be part of the Royal Army? You fully expect them to fight for you and against their lord?" Cersei asked faintly disappointed in her son's lack of foresight, but not letting it show as she instead tried to push him towards the right answer.

"Of course, they would fight for me. I'm their king. They have no choice!" Joffrey said angrily, not sure what point his mother was getting at.

"Oh, really? You just doubled the taxes on their homeland, ordered it to be invaded, and asked them to kill their brothers," Cersei said blandly, an eyebrow raised as she gave her son an amused look.

"I'm not asking them. I'm commanding them," Joffrey countered getting got his feet as he glared down at this mother for questioning the authority he would have as king. After all, he was the crown prince, it was his divine right to rule!

"The North cannot be held. Not by an outsider like one of us. It's too big and too wild to tame. And when winter does come, the Seven Gods couldn't come together to save you or your army from them. A good king knows when to save his strength . . . and when to use it to destroy his enemies," Cersei replied calmly, taking Joffrey non-injured arm and guiding him back into his seat so she could finish applying the healing salve.

"So you agree? That the Starks our enemies?" Joffrey asked with his mother giving him a pointed and knowing look.

"Everyone who isn't us is an enemy," Cersei replied as she met her son's eyes.

 **( - )**

 **(With Harry in King's Landing)**

Walking through King's Landing Harry's nose wrinkled slightly as he step over a pile of shit that was sitting in the middle of the street. His gaze sweeping over his surroundings as he and his guards continued on through the narrow and winding streets of King's Landing, his guard up as he saw the smallfolk moving out of his way. The busy streets parting like the Red Sea as he and his guards passed through.

This was not down to any specific respect for Harry, it was more likely that from the cut of his clothing, his generally cleanliness and his armed guards they recognised Harry as a lord. Probably expecting that like most lords that he would be an nasty bastard, punishing anyone that got in his way. The reaction of the smallfolk was often a sign of the nature of a government.

Here in King's Landing the people were seen but not heard, Harry could almost sense the resentment as he saw the dark eyes of the commoners on him as he passed. It was not surprising if one considered the facts, here in this city of almost one million people, a couple of hundred nobles held pretty much all the wealth and power. The rest barely scraping by, the contrast between the rich and poor was startling, and in a cramped city like this one, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms this was never more present.

In Harry's mind the city was like a bubbling cauldron of anger and resentment, with the actions of the nobles families only adding to the pressure. Still there was only so much Harry could do, his power was strongest in the North and the Reach. Here in the centre of the Crownlands his influence was not all that strong, yet.

With him now being the Master of Ships it was possible that could change, after all if he established new shipping lanes he could provide more jobs for the commoners and increase the revenue of the city. That though was something for the future, for now he was going to start having his people spreading rumours of the affluence of the North and the Reach. It was a short time way to decrease some of the pressure in the capital and maybe encourage outward migration to the other Kingdoms.

After all, with House Albion was soon to take over the lands of Harrenhal. With no lord, the land had fallen into disrepair and ruin. The mighty keep, once the largest and most fortified castle in the entirety of Westeros, was now a ruin. Very few strides having been made towards repairing the damage inflicted upon it by the Targaryens.

Yes, when the Albions took over, it would need major renovations and improvements, the wizards and the goblins would be good for that. But also it would need a loyal workforce to work the fields, and build the roads. After all, Harry wasn't going to half-ass his ownership of the land. He would bring it up to scratch, making it as fortified and productive as the Iron Islands now were. That included not only making it the wizards' stronghold on the mainland, but also a central trading hub that connected the affluent South with the up and coming North.

Pushing those thoughts of the future away for now, Harry instead continued down the street. Flanked by his guards as he made his way from the bust main thoroughfare of King's Landing to the Street of Silk. Effectively, King's Landing's red-light district, and the seat of House Albion's spy network.

Continuing on unashamedly through the streets Harry headed toward the Benevolent Mistress, the grand stone manse that Tracey called home. The place where Harry, Fleur, and Daphne would be staying for the moment.

As Harry walked through the Street of Silk he took note of how many heavily armored golems were positioned throughout it. Keeping order in the area where House Albion held dominance. Glancing at the large hulking beings as he passed, Harry took note of the enchantments that had been laid upon them. Or more specifically of the repelling wards that had been imbued into them. The wards were simple but effective, they basically dissuade people from noticing the irregularities about the golems. It was subtle which is likely why it was so effective.

No doubt it was an addition Tracey had decided to use in order to better hide just what the golems were. After all, Harry's orders to conceal their magic were still in effect, and would continue to be until he decided otherwise.

Entering the manse, Harry soon met a scantily clad beauty who upon seeing him and noticing the crest on his robes bowed low, ushering him through the luxuriously decorated building. Passing several rooms filled with barely clothed beauties and besotted men and women. The girl not even glancing at her debauched surroundings as she instead dutifully led Harry to Tracey's office.

 **( - )**

Entering Tracey's office, Harry was surprised to see that Daphne and Fleur were not her only guests. As there were, in fact, two other people also present. One was a tall, richly dressed, handsome man, with short black hair, olive skin and dark eyes. An amused smirk on his face as he gregariously laughed at some comment, his smile only widening as he saw Harry entering the room. A slight twinkle appearing in his eyes as he not so subtly look Harry up and down, the smile turning slightly lascivious.

The other guest in the room was a lithe woman, with dark curly hair, slightly angular features and dark seductive eyes. Like the man she also looked up as Harry entered, a faintly amused smile on her mouth as she and the man lounged about, engaging in idle conversation with Daphne, Tracey, and Fleur.

"Harry," Daphne greeted, a slight smile tugging at he lips as she looked up at Harry. Taking a sip of wine from her goblet, before continuing. "I would like you to meet our guests, Prince Oberyn Martell and his paramour, Ellaria Sand."

Giving Daphne a smile, Harry then turned to greet the Prince of Dorne and his lover. The two who Tracey had mentioned before were waiting to meet with him and Neville in King's Landing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Prince Oberyn," Harry greeted a smile seamlessly making its way onto his face as he crossed the room. Noticing how Oberyn stood up as he approached, a smile still on his face even as his eyes narrowed minutely, flickering down to the sword Harry had belted at his waist before back up to his face.

"And you as well, Lord Albion. Long have I wanted to greet the new Lord of the Iron Islands, and one of the men responsible for splitting the Mountain," Oberyn replied as he extended his hand, grasping Harry's hand tightly in his own before pulling Harry in for a brief hug.

As he did this Harry tensed, not appreciating having his personal space encroached upon or being touched when he didn't want to be. Still he bore it for the moment, taking a half-step back as Oberyn released him. After all, the man in front of him was the younger brother to the ruler of Dorne. One of the kingdoms where House Albion's influence was weakest. It would be a mistake to alienate a man who could be a useful asset in the years to come.

"I'm afraid that if you were looking for the man responsible for slaying the Mountain, then you have the wrong Albion. Neville Albion was the one who fought and slew the Mountain. I merely fought alongside him in the melee," Harry replied honestly, as he gave Oberyn another slight smile before turning to the man's bastard lover. Nodding his head as he took her extended hand and laid a kiss on her knuckles, not at all perturbed about her parentage. "It is an honor to meet you, Ellaria Sand."

"An honor?" Ellaria scoffed in amusement, though Harry did notice the slight flicker of surprise in her eyes at how Harry so easily dismissed her being a bastard. It was unnerving to see in a none Dornish Lord, it made him an unknown as usually she could count upon the prejudices and suspicion most nobles regarded her with. Acceptance and acknowledgement, she wasn't sure how to deal with that. "Is it truly an honor to meet a bastard?"

Harry smiled as he heard her prickly words. "It is always an honor for me to meet a beautiful woman. Regardless of their birth or origins."

Once again Ellaria was taken aback, this Harry, he was as odd as the other Albions she had met. All of them were very odd. Harry, Daphne, and Tracey all seemed at first to be cold and reserved people, yet at the same time they had a surprising amount acceptance and tolerance. It was this contradictory nature that put her on guard. Fleur, meanwhile, she was a different kind of odd. Just being around her was intoxicating, even now Ellaria could barely take her eyes off of the unnaturally beautiful, silver-haired woman. She could already feel a wetness building between her legs form just being near her, and this was not helped when she realised that this Fleur was a lot less reserved than the other Albions. Seemingly taking delight in her sexuality, and easily keeping up with Oberyn and Ellaria when it came to flirting.

"A truer statement has never been said," Oberyn commented as he lounged back on the seat he had been sharing with Ellaria, a jovial smile on his face as he watch Harry take up a seat between Daphne and Fleur. The smile widening as he saw the silver-haired woman instinctively move closer to him, almost like a moth drawn to a flame. Daphne was more subtle, but he could see the way she seemed to relax a bit more in his presence. "As for being mistaken, I thoroughly believe a lord is responsible for the actions of his men, whether they be good or bad. And butchering of the Mountain, well that was very good, I only wish had been there to see it."

"An ignoble end to a repulsive human being," Harry replied with a shrug, understanding just why Oberyn was so happy that Gregor Clegane was dead. After all, the man was infamous for raping Oberyn's sister, Princess Elia, and then butchering her and her children with the assistance of another knight, Amory Lorch. "I know for a fact Nev took great pleasure in ridding the world of his presence."

"Well, then this Nev is a wise and sensible man. I will have to thank him when I can," Oberyn replied, flashing his teeth, his face turning slightly vindictive as he spoke about the death of the Mountain.

"I will pass on your compliments when I see him next," Harry replied with a casual shrug before he settled back into his seat, absentmindedly putting his arm around Fleur as she nestled into him.

"I appreciate it," Oberyn responded a smile on his face, before he paused for a second and continued. "Also I hear congratulations is in order. After all, you're the new Master of Ships, or at least from what I have heard you are."

"A distinct honor, yes. One that I only hope I can live up to," Harry replied with feigned modesty. "Though I am curious, Lord Oberyn, why you have chosen to stay here in King's Landing. After all, I have long since heard that you like to travel. Why stay in one place for so long?"

"Please, we are friends. Call me Oberyn," the Dornish Prince replied, a charismatic smile on his face. "As for staying here, well, I go where there is excitement, and with their being a new Hand of the King and the mysterious Lord Albion joining the Small Council, I smelt excitement brewing and so decided to get a front row seat."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at that, absentmindedly sending out a mental probe. Invading Oberyn's mind as he looked for his true purpose. His touch gentle as he moved through the tumultuous perverted memories assailing him, his expression never changing.

"Oberyn has also apparently been sent here by his brother, Doran Martell, too," Tracey spoke up, a slight smile on her face as she sipped some wine. Gaining the attention of the others. "The Prince of Dorne seems to be interested in creating some agreements with the Iron Islands with regards to trade and such."

"That's also a reason, to set the framework for a closer bond with House Albion," Oberyn replied carelessly. "At the moment, I'm only here to make contact and pass on Dorne's thanks for your actions."

Harry smiled as he heard that, his mind already racing as he considered the benefits of having an alliance with Dorne. It meant he could set up some trading posts, perhaps a small military presence in the other kingdom. It would allow the Order's reach to extend into the kingdom most disassociated with the crown. All of which would be beneficial. Of course, the benefits would be limited, not as lucrative as the economic and military alliance with the Reach, the expansion of House Albion from Harrenhal and into the Riverlands, or their continued growing influence in the North. As well as the expedition beyond the Wall and the entrenchment of House Albion in King's Landing and the Crownlands.

The Order had many irons in the fire and only so much manpower. For dealing with Dorne he might need to delegate, meaning he might send Padma Patil to Dorne, to set up an embassy of sorts and begin analyzing the kingdom's assets and the payoff of an alliance, and maybe an outline of how that alliance should go.

After all, the goblins had been quite adamant on getting access to the Vale so that they could survey the mountains. Likely so they could set up more mines within or at least begin the process of doing so, which Harry wasn't necessarily against.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Oberyn. I'm sure in time both Dorne and the Iron Islands will have a very close relationship," Harry said amicably as he took a goblet of wine and extended it. Oberyn taking the hint and raising his as well.

Oberyn laughed at that, drinking some wine a grin on his face. "Well, now my job's done. Let's get drunk!"

Harry cocked an eyebrow at that, before he shrugged and downed the rest of his goblet.

 **( - )**

 **(A Few Hours Later)**

It was a few hours later when a very drunk Oberyn had to be taken back to his manse, his paramour, Ellaria, having to partially support him. His time with Oberyn had been quite pleasant, mostly revolving around drinking and laughing as Oberyn told tales of his adventures. Most of them sounding very exaggerated, becoming even more so the more he drank.

For the most part the gregarious Dornish Prince dominated the conversation, usually with loud laughter and bawdy conversation. The others occasionally contributing, drinking a lot less than the Prince as they idly talked about what Dorne was like, the places Oberyn had visited. With Oberyn occasionally letting slip details about his brother's infirmity and the weakness of Oberyn's nephew, Quentyn. This was followed by Oberyn letting slip about the growing disgruntlement of the Dornishmen at Doran's lack of action, and the stagnation of Dorne due to this lack of inaction.

All of which was very interesting, as it painted a picture of a very malleable Dorne, one which had a weak ruler who seemed to be a lot less popular than his younger brother. A fractured kingdom that had purposefully isolated itself from the rest of Westeros, and was only now offering the olive branch. Even if it was just to House Albion. Suffice to say these detail interested Harry and the others, after all you could never have too much knowledge.

Watching as their two guests left, Harry to out a sigh settling more comfortable into his seat now he no longer had to keep up appearances.

Daphne, meanwhile, smiled. "Well, that was enlightening."

"I could've done without it though," Harry replied irritably, settling himself more comfortably, idly taking Daphne's hand in his own as he did so.

"Did the Small Council meeting not go well?" Tracey asked curiously, leaning forward as she eyed Harry.

"No, it went fine for the most part. I got my measure of the other members and put in a bid to take over Harrenhal," Harry replied as he looked over at Tracey.

"Robert will definitely take you up on the offer. What did the other Councillors have to say?" Daphne spoke up, sitting up straighter as she looked at Harry.

"Surprisingly they were all for the most part. Didn't seem to be against it. Once Robert agrees I see no problem in finalizing the agreement," Harry responded with an idle shrug.

"Even Baelish?" Daphne queried, a frown on her face as she had expected Littlefinger to have spoken up. Harry had after all usurped his business and wealth. Effectively neutering the man, with Baelish barely managing to cling onto his seat on the Council.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he heard that, looking over suspiciously at Tracey as he did so. Noticing how for a second a look of discomfort flickered across her face. "Yes even Baelish. It was almost as if someone had disobeyed my instruction and put him under a magical compulsion? Tracey?"

Daphne turned to look at Tracey as Harry said that, her brow furrowing as she realised what Harry was getting at. "What did you do?"

Tracey opened her mouth to respond, before she closed it, rethinking what she was going to say as she instead just shrugged. "I took the initiative."

Harry narrowed his eyes at that, slightly irritated that Tracey had gone behind his back. But pushing that aside for now. First he needed to get a clearer idea of just what she had done, after all he didn't want to ream her if she ended up doing something that benefited their cause. It would be hypocritical of him to get annoyed with her for disobeying his command when he had so often done the same to other people.

"And what did you do? Didn't I warn you about the inherent magic the people of this world have and how if they have a strong enough will, it is possible for them to break our control?" Harry asked calmly, reiterating what a year of experimentation had told them.

The people of this world all seemed to have an inherent magic, though it often was stronger in some people than others. What they magic possessed though was completely different to what Harry and his kind had. Meaning that no Westerosi would be able to wield their magic just as none of them would likely be able to wield their magic. Basically what this meant was that despite looking similar Harry and his kind were not identical to the people of this world. They were similar but also different.

That being said the amount of magic the people of this world possessed was very small, in Harry's culture it would barely qualify most of them as squibs. But the actions of the Red Priestess in Essos did show that there was actual branches of magic in this world that could pose a threat.

Tracey rolled her eyes as she heard that. "Yes, I'm very aware of this and I took precautions."

"Precautions?" Harry questioned his eyes narrowing, wandering just what Tracey had been up to in his absence. Tracey, Harry had found was a very intelligent and very competent woman which was exactly why he had situated her where he had, a viper pit like King's Landing was a place where Tracey would thrive. Now though he was wondering if he had given her too much leeway, a ship had to have a captain otherwise there would be too many people fighting over which direction they wanted to go. Hopefully though Tracey had not veered away to far from the course Harry had set them down.

"Yes, precautions. Littlefinger is completely under my control," Tracey replied confidently.

"How did you ensure that?" Daphne asked, no accusation in her voice instead just curiosity. Tracey was one of her closest friends, she trusted her implicitly.

"I suppose you could say I magically lobotomized him," Tracey replied with a shrug before expanding on her statement as she saw Harry cock and eyebrow and both Daphne and Fleur looking at her curiously. "I used Legilimency to strategically break part of his mind. It took me a few days of work but I deadened his emotions to the point at which he only just able to function."

Fleur frowned in confusion as she heard that, her specialty lying with Enchantments as oppose to Mind Arts like Harry and Tracey specialized in. Daphne also looked a bit confused after all she specialized in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, her own ability and knowledge of the Mind Arts only covering Occlumency, Legilimency was a very advanced and difficult branch, something that only Harry, Blaise and Tracey could be called Masters in. There were other users but they were mediocre at best.

Unlike the other two though Harry did understand what Tracey had done. After all he did know a lot about the Mind Arts, in fact it was something he excelled in, that and Transfiguration and the Dark Arts, the three branches of Magic he was strongest in. What Tracey had effectively done was remove the man's will, by deadening his emotions as she had, she had removed his ability to feel anger, hate, love or anything really. She had removed the things that drove him on, effectively turning him into some kind of emotionless drone who was content to just exist.

"So you removed his willpower entirely, and then used the Imperius Curse to replace it with your own. Effectively turning him into a puppet," Harry questioned, thinking over the consequences. This meant they now had absolute control over the Master of Coin, which meant they could very easily recoup the money they were giving to the Crown if they wanted. It also gave House Albion another voice on the Council and more control over the kingdom's economy.

On the other hand it also robbed Harry of a useful tool. Baelish was going to be Harry's trump card going forward, a mad dog Harry could unleash to spread confusion and discontent, and then use him as a scapegoat. The man was greedy, arrogant and selfish, three sins that were very easy to manipulate. Now though he was just a drone, a hollow shell of a man. They could still use him to spread confusion, but it would likely not be as effective as Harry wanted.

"I can see scowl," Tracey spoke up, unperturbed by the slight frown that had spread across Harry's face as he was thinking. "But I have some information that might cheer you up."

"Oh?" Harry asked, pushing aside his thoughts on the pros and cons of Tracey's actions for the moment, after all it seemed he didn't have all the information yet.

"Yes," Tracey replied with a smile, flashing the white of her teeth as she saw the other three lean forward in interest. "After putting Baelish under my control I questioned him. Did you know he was the one behind the death of Jon Arryn and not the Lannisters?"

Harry frowned as she heard that, he had been working under the assumption that it was the Lannisters.

"I thought you said it was the Lannisters?" Daphne questioned, putting Harry's thoughts into words.

Tracey shrugged that was the information I managed to get, apparently when Jon Arryn had fallen ill Cersei instructed Pycelle to poison him as he was close to discovering that Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were illegitimate. Cersei thought she was responsible, and that's why I thought the same," Tracey replied, defending her network. It was not her fault that two sets of people had tried to kill the same man.

"So Littlefinger murdered him. Why?" Harry questioned, getting the conversation back on topic. The new information meant very little, as it did not change Harry's plan in the grand scheme.

"Indirectly, yes," Tracey continued, holding a hand up to forestall any questions as she continued speaking. "He instructed Lysa Arryn, Jon Arryn's wife to give him the Tears of Lys. Something she was more than happy to do considering Baelish is her lover and the father of the illegitimate heir to the Vale, Robin Arryn. On top of that the woman is fanatically loyal to him to the point that it makes Bellatrix's obsession over Voldemort look like a small schoolyard crush."

Harry hummed as he heard this, his brow furrowed in thought. "Why?"

"Why, what? Why did he kill the previous Hand of the King?" Tracey asked, before she shrugged. "Greed. He killed Jon in order to take power in the Vale for himself using Lysa as a proxy. He was also hoping to set in motion a feud between the Lannisters and the Starks by manipulating the honorable Eddard Stark into believing the Lannisters were the responsible party. Bringing instability to the kingdoms and giving him a chance to profit."

"It sounds . . . convoluted," Harry said a frown on his face as he thought about Littlefinger's apparent plot. He could see what he was attempting to do but at the same time he could think of better ways to do it. At the moment though he was only looking at one part of the scheme though, it was possible there was more to it.

Ignoring Littlefinger's plot for now, Harry instead began to think about what this information meant. As he did so a smile began to make its way across his face. Baelish had a connection to the current Regent of the Vale, no more of a connection he had control over the Regent. Which mean that House Albion had control over the Regent.

If they played their cards right they could use Baelish to manipulate Lysa into signing an agreement with the Iron Islands and House Albion. One which would be very much in their favor, giving them a strong foothold in the Vale as they could use this to establish small ports along the coast, which could also have garrisons. It could be beneficial both economically and also militarily.

There was a logistical problem with this though. There was only a finite amount of wizards and witches who could be put to use. Many of them already had duties on the Iron Islands: overseeing ships, agriculture, mining, manufacturing, forging, the magical creatures, the Island's trade, the outposts based around the kingdoms, the expedition north of the Wall and dozens of other jobs.

"This is good. It gives us a foothold in the Vale which we can begin to use, at least to benefit our trade and maybe give the goblins access to some of the more mountainous regions," Harry said carefully, putting his goblet down a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"I think you're thinking a bit small here, Harry," Tracey replied a sly smile on her face as she reclined contently in her seat, happy she wasn't going to have Harry laying into her. That was something she could do without, who knows she might treat herself with a bit of an orgy with some of the more attract whores in her brothel. It had been a few days since she had had her itch scratched, and there were a number of her girls who were very talented with their tongues.

"No," Harry replied, surprising the rest of the room, as they all looked over to see that he was frowning. "This provides us with a great opportunity but we don't have the numbers to take full advantage of it."

"Maybe we need to start recruiting more of the indigenous people. With our magical contracts we can guarantee their loyalty is absolute," Daphne replied, instantly understanding what Harry was concerned about.

"That might be something to look into. We need can start recruiting in the Reach, the Westerlands, and the Crownlands which are the more populous regions of Westeros. If we offer them enough gold we can make this work, though that would mean moving most of the wizards into a managerial role," Harry replied, his mind racing.

"Enough talk of business," Fleur suddenly interrupted as she sat up, and looked around at the other. "Business can come later, for now we should enjoy ourselves after a long few months on the roads."

Daphne smiled faintly at that, more than happy to give it a rest for now. Things were running well at the moment, the logistics of their future projects could wait until tomorrow. After all it seemed with Harry's new position on the Small Council and things moving as fast as they were, all of them were going to be being very busy. They might as well take advantage of their free time whilst they could.

"I agree with Fleur," Daphne said sharing a smile with the beautiful Veela, before looking over at Harry. "I'm sure there is a spare room here, why don't we make use of it."

Harry grinned at that, all thoughts of economics and logistics disappearing as he instead just focused on the two women beside him. "Yep, I think I can live with that."

 **( - )**

 **(At the Gates of King's Landing)**

Riding through the raised gates of King's Landing, an entourage consisting of close to a fifty armored and mounted men-at-arms, a few wagons and a dozen other retainers rode through the streets. People on the streets getting out of their way as the mounted group past, many of them looking curiously at the two people in the centre of the mass.

The first person was a handsome young man with shoulder length brown hair and dashing features. He was currently wearing a leather jerkin and breeches, and had a sword strapped carefully to his waist. Emblazoned on his leather coat, just above where his heart would be was the symbol of a golden rose. A similar sigil that was shown on the group's pendants, and on the clothing of the retainers and tunics of the men-at-arms.

Riding beside this man was a beautiful woman, with long flowing brown hair, deep hazel-colored eyes. The people on the street could only stop and stare as they saw her, unable to tear their gazes away from her as she passed.

Looking at the group as they rode in the direction of the Red Keep and the higher class areas of the city, assuming that they were likely here for the upcoming tournament that was supposed to be being thrown in honor of the new Hand of the King. People could only watch as the Tyrells arrived at King's Landing.

 **( - )**

 **(Beyond the Wall)**

A large cloud of mist swirled into the air in front of Hagrid as he took a deep breath, his dark eyes narrowing against the biting winds as he looked out over the top of the expedition's preliminary defenses at Hardhome. The land outside of the walls was a mixture of grey and white, a large mountainous area covered in snow and ice. It looked to be a hard and inhospitable landscape, a place that would be difficult to live in.

Despite that though there were apparently hundreds of wildling tribes beyond the Wall. Spread out all over the vast icy expanse. For all Hagrid knew there might be even more than that, after all no one knew how far the land to the North went or what truly lived there. The wizards had heard the rumors, told in hushed whispers by the native Iron Islanders. But whether there was any truth in their stories, well that was part of the reason this expedition had been sent north.

Letting out another breath Hagrid turned around looking back at their encampment, noticing as he did how some of the wizards were transfiguring the ground do create large defensive walls, whilst others weaved their wands through a number of complicated patterns creating preliminary wards that the goblins they had brought with them could improve upon later.

Speaking of the little blighters, they were currently transporting the rune cannons from the Remnant, moving them to the batteries they had built around the encampment, all of them facing outward prepared to unleash hell upon anything that might attack the camp.

As for the ship itself, the Remnant had been docked in the bay, three great long chains leading from the ship to a few rock outcroppings. The chains pinned to the rock courtesy of Hagrid's brute strength. A temporary arrangement that would keep the ship safely ensconced in the bay until one of the wizards went about creating a dock. Something that would only be considered once the camp was fully established and defended.

A job the centaurs they had brought with them were all currently doing, all ten of them standing sentinel at the edges of the camp, their bows in hand as they stared out at their surroundings. Their watchful eyes looking for any signs of an enemy. None of them looking were affected by the cold after a couple of the wizards had put some warming charms upon them.

Letting out another sigh Hagrid pulled his large mace from his belt, resting it easily on his shoulder as he began to walk towards the gate.

"Oi, Neville!" Hagrid called getting the attention of the heavily armored wizard, who turned away from where he was currently fixing up some older wooden huts that were remnants of the former wildling settlement, to look curiously at the half giant.

"What's up, Hagrid?" Neville asked as he finished repairing and renovating the sixth and finally hut they would be needing. Turning instead to look at the hulking man behind him.

"I'm going to take a couple of those golems and a few centaurs and go scout the area. Get a lay of the land so to speak," Hagrid replied abruptly, nodding over to where the armored golems the group had brought with them were standing patiently waiting for orders.

Neville nodded as he heard that, knowing that Hagrid wasn't asking for permission but was just telling him what he was doing. "Okay, that's fine. Just leave a couple of them here and don't stray too far. We don't want you getting lost, after all."

Hagrid chuckled as he heard that, amused by the boy's concern. "Don't worry, Nev. I was roaming the Forbidden Forest before even your father was born. I doubt there is anything out there that is nasty than what was in that forest."

Neville nodded at that, acknowledging that Hagrid likely knew what he was doing. Which was part of the reason he had been brought along on the expedition, that and his formidable knowledge of magical creatures. "Well, good luck. We should be done with securing the camp in about an hour or two . Hopefully, sooner though as it looks like it will be getting dark soon."

"I won't go far. I'll probably be back within an hour," Hagrid replied as he passed Neville, clapping one of his dinner plate-sized hands on Nev's shoulder almost making the man's knees buckle as he patted his shoulder a smile on his face as he looked down at the man he had seen grown up from a bumbling child to a confident man.

Walking past Neville, Hagrid instead headed toward where the golems were standing. Looking forward to leading the group's first proper patrol out into the land beyond the Wall.

 **( - )**

 **AN: So things are progressing, things are moving at a pace, plans are coming into play that have basically turned future canon events on their head. Also we have the Tyrells finally in King's Landing and involved in the fray, we have Oberyn a character I always really liked now in King's Lanidng.**

 **Things in Essos though are still up in the air, so look forward to that. And the expedition beyond the wall will certainly be interesting. It would be interesting to see the reaction of a giant beyond the Wall if it met Hagrid.**

 **Ok so other than that I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and leave a comment or review at the end as they are very useful when it comes to writing the next chapter.**

 **Hope you all have had a good year so for and enjoyed the story. Also hope you all give some of my other stories a look, you might find** **something** **you like.**

 **See you all later.**

 **Seagate.**


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: So here is the next chapter, sorry for the wait, but real life was kicking my arse. Still though I managed to finish this chapter. Unfortunately though I was not able to have it betaed. That being said I will send her it tonight and will likely replace this chapter after my Beta Foxmac has got it back to me. That being said I have read through it a few times and think I have got most of the typos.**

 **Also I have after reading through the story myself made a few changes to my plans for the story. I haven't changed anything in the story, I have just changed a few things in the plot outline I wrote out when I first started the story.**

 **Other than that though here is the next chapter, I have to say I enjoyed writing this one, so I hope you all enjoy it.**

 **Is you have and questions PM me and I'll be happy to answer them as best as I can.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

 **( - )**

 **(Last Time)**

 _Hagrid chuckled as he heard that, amused by the boy's concern. "Don't worry, Nev. I was roaming the Forbidden Forest before even your father was born. I doubt there is anything out there that is nasty than what was in that forest."_

 _Neville nodded at that, acknowledging that Hagrid likely knew what he was doing. Which was part of the reason he had been brought along on the expedition, that and his formidable knowledge of magical creatures. "Well, good luck. We should be done with securing the camp in about an hour or two . Hopefully, sooner though as it looks like it will be getting dark soon."_

 _"I won't go far. I'll probably be back within an hour," Hagrid replied as he passed Neville, clapping one of his dinner plate-sized hands on Nev's shoulder almost making the man's knees buckle as he patted his shoulder a smile on his face as he looked down at the man he had seen grown up from a bumbling child to a confident man._

 _Walking past Neville, Hagrid instead headed toward where the golems were standing. Looking forward to leading the group's first proper patrol out into the land beyond the Wall._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter**

 **( - )**

 **(In King's Landing, the Small Council Chamber)**

It had been around a week since the last Small Council meeting and currently Ned Stark was sitting in his usual spot within the chambers of the Small Council, a slightly impatient look upon his face as he unconsciously began to drum his fingers on the table. It had only been a short time and already he was cursing the fact that Robert had offered him the position of Hand, it was a tedious job and not one that Ned was at all suited for. No, he would much rather of remained in Winterfell, where he was both comfortable and happy.

At the moment he was in the midst of a particularly tedious meeting, one which was about the sudden unrest that was sweeping the city, courtesy of the upcoming Hand's tournament, not that the Hand actually wanted it.

In the meeting with him at the moment were all of the members of the Small Council, all of them sitting in their chair and listen as Janos Slynt, a fat, balding man in gaudy golden armour and cloak, was giving his report to the Council. With Janos Slynt being the current Commander of the City Watch, colloquially known as the Goldcloaks.

"It's the Hand's tournament that's causing us trouble my Lord," Janos said in a whiny tone, his hands rubbing together in front of him and a faint bead of sweat running down his head as he continued to give his report. His eyes darting nervously between the seated men in front of him.

"It's the King's tournament. The Hand wants no part of it," Ned spoke up, his tone laced with frustration over this. His frustration being due to people continually making out that he wanted the damn tournament, as well as irritating meetings like, which were taking his attention away from his other duties, like running the kingdom for the King and finding out more about Jon Arryn's death.

"Call it what you will Lord Stark, but the city itself is overcrowded with people already, and there's even more flooding in every day. Last night alone we have had several tavern riots, three stabbings, a drunken horse race down the Street of Sisters" Janos went on to explain, noticing as he did that the Small Council did not look happy in the slightest at his report. "And that's to say nothing about the massacre near one of the brothels!"

"Massacre?" Ned queried, his gaze shifting from the Commander of the City Watch to the nearby Harry. His eyes narrowing as he saw the younger man looked like he was barely paying attention.

"Yes, apparently some fools thought it would be a good idea to start a fight in the Street of Silk and nearly caused a fire. Suffice to say those Blackguard, as the people are calling them, got involved. So far the Albion's have handed over twelve bodies…." Janos Slynt said uncomfortably, his eyes flickering to an amused looking Harry Albion as he did so. The Commander knowing as he did so that House Albion, despite being relatively new, was nowadays among the most powerful Houses in Westeros. With the Noble House nowadays controlling the entire of the Street of Silk, and having massive influence throughout Westeros, both economic, social and political.

"Lord Albion, do you have anything to say on this matter?" Ned spoke up as he too looked at Harry, a grim look on his face as he saw the man's unrepentant expression.

"The men were violent and attempted to do great harm to those under my House's protection. My Blackguard, as you call them, merely reacted in an appropriate manner." Harry replied calmly, not at all bothered by the accusations.

Ned grimaced at that, knowing as he did so that he would not be able to do anything to Lord Albion over this. After all the dead bodies that had been handed over were likely all commoners, with the bodies of anyone important who died having most likely gone missing. Either way Lord Albion was too powerful to be touched, especially with something as frivolous as a few dead thugs.

"Next time make sure your men call the City Watch to deal with incidents like these." Ned finally responded, meeting Harry's gaze as he did so.

"Of course." Harry replied with a nod, knowing as he did that the entire Council would recognise the hollowness of his words, after all he would continue to do whatever he felt was best to ensure the safety of those under his protection. Even if it meant he unleashed his armoured golems on a bunch of thugs who thought they could do anything they wished.

"It's simply dreadful that such things happen," Varys spoke up dryly, his words just as hollow as Harry's own.

"If you can't keep the King's peace captain, then perhaps the City Watch should be commanded by someone who can," Renly Baratheon suddenly said, drawing the attention of the other Council Members as he did so. His gaze almost imperceptibly flickering to Harry as he began to speak, before his voice got stronger as he saw the Albion Lord give him a nod of approval. "In fact I believe order in the City has gotten lax in recent months, maybe it would be better to take a firmer hand when it comes to dealing with those who break the King's peace."

"I just need more men. The City Watch and the Kingsguard can only handle so much with a populace that outnumbers us several times over," Janos replied, his eyes suddenly widening as he realised that he could potentially lose his position of power over this. His teeth gritting at the thought as he instead tried to come up with excuses for his failings.

"You'll get fifty additional men. Lord Baelish will see to it they are paid for," Ned spoke up, turning to look at Baelish as he did so. The thin weasel like man nodding subserviently to Lord Stark as he did so.

"Of course," Baelish said with a nod, making a note in the book in front of him as he did so.

"I'll also give you 20 men from my own household guard until the crowds have left when the tournament is over," Eddard added on, his fingers stopping their drumming as he sat up in his seat.

"House Albion will also offer the support of a hundred guardsmen to help keep order." Harry chipped in, a slight smile on his own face as he saw the looks of surprise he was given. Mentally thanking the Weasley twins as he did so, both of whom had very recently created a working portal that linked the Pyke to the Albion's manse in King's Landing. Even if the portal only allowed none living objects through, it was damn useful. In fact already Harry had order two hundred more golems sent to King's Landing. Most of which had now been activated and sent to guard the Albion's ever expanding territory in the Capital, a territory that was gradually expanding.

"I hadn't realised you had such forces available." Varys spoke up, his brow furrowed as he heard Albion's offer. After all the last report his spies had given him had had the Albion forces at less than eighty, for him to suddenly be able to lend out such a large number was perturbing.

"Yes more of my guardsmen recently arrived. After all with the presence of Lady Fleur, Lady Daphne, Lady Tracey and myself in the capital, it was deemed appropriate to bring more guardsmen over." Harry replied nonchalantly, dismissing Varys confusion and suspicion easily.

"A prudent decision." Renly said with a nod of his head and a slight smile to Harry.

Ned also gave Harry a nod, a part of him comforted that there were more northern soldiers in the capital, even if they were those oddly silent, black armoured guardsmen. After all Ned might not like Lord Albion personally, but he did at least trust the man, or at least he trusted him to do the right thing for the Kingdom.

"Thank you, my Lord Hand, Lord Albion. They will be put to good use!" The Commander of the City Watch said, his eyes wide as he realised he had just been gifted one hundred and seventy more bodies to command. With that done he then gave a bow to the other members of the Council, before leaving after he was dismissed.

"Unless there is any other business I would want to address one final point before we draw this meeting to a close," Eddard spoke up as he looked around the table, watching as he did so for everyone to either shake their head, or if they did have any other business to speak up. "Good then I would just like to announce that the King has accepted Lord Albion's proposal to take over Harrenhal and the lands attached."

Harry smiled as he heard that, before nodding his head. Not that he was at all surprised by the decision, after all Tracey's spy network had already picked up on it, and before even that he had moved his forces into the ruined fortress.

"I trust I can leave you to deal with the arrangements Lord Baelish." Ned continued as he handed over a furled scroll bearing the seal of the Hand on it to Littlefinger, before handing another scroll to Harry, with this one being larger and bearing the King's seal.

"Of course Lord Hand, I will see to it that everything is in order." Baelish replied with a slight bow, accepting the scroll as he did so, before opening it and scanning the contents.

"Good." Ned said as he pushed himself to his feet, "Now if there is nothing else my Lords, I have other more important matters to attend to right now?"

With that said Ned then dismissed the Council, watching as they all began to leave with Varys, Renly, Petyr and Harry all leaving quite swiftly, whilst Grand Maester Pycelle was a bit slower. Seeing this Ned decided to take advantage of the situation and call for the Maester to wait so he could talk to Pycelle. After all the Maester was the one who treated Jon Arryn before he died and so might be able to cast a bit more light on the events that surrounded his death.

 **( - )**

 **(Around an hour later)**

It was about an hour after the Small Council meeting that Harry finally managed to get back to the manse. His time having been spent meeting and greeting the incoming nobles, using the opportunity the tournament present to network with the other nobles and spread House Albion's influence and connections even further.

It was a tiring affair, and more than once he had had to put a lid on some of his more acidic and sarcastic comments. After all when dealing with incompetent, inbred nobles, you had to be careful. After all most of them were prickly little shits. Still the news of the Albion's takeover of Harrenhal had spread fast and he had found himself inundated by Riverland nobles. Some of whom wanted to see what he was made of, no doubt a bit pissed off that some petty 'Iron Islander' was now in possession of one of the greatest fortresses in Westeros. Others though were sucking up to him, hoping to gain favour with his powerful, up and coming House. And still others were likely scoping him out as a potential threat to their own power hungry plots.

Either way Harry had forced a pleasant smile on his face and had dealt with them as Daphne had taught him. Bottling up his disgust and distaste and instead offering a cheerful, friendly, agrreable demeanor.

Now though he could drop the façade, which is exactly what he did the moment he entered the manse.

Striding through the clean and quiet halls he made his way to Tracey's office, where he hoped the other three were waiting for him.

Upon entering he found that both Tracey and Daphne were there, as to surprisingly was Blaise. Harry having not expected the grim, dark skinned man to have returned so soon from his mission in Essos. Noticeably Fleur was not there, not that Harry was too concerned, as she was a powerful Witch and could look after herself.

"Harry." Daphne said in surprise as he entered.

"Hello all," Harry replied with a half wave, giving both Tracey and Daphne a smile as he did so, before he strode across to Blaise. "Blaise, how goes things?"

"Not bad," Blasé replied gruffly as he stood up and took Harry's hand, allowing the other man pull him into a half hug. "Though I have news to share."

"As do I," Harry replied a smile on his face before he released Blaise and patted him on the shoulder.

"Well you go first then," Blaise said as he retook his seat on a nearby couch, the masked man shifting his Valerian sword, Red Rain to the side as he did so, the crimson hue of the blade glinting slightly as he did so.

"Very well," Harry said as he too took a seat, taking one next to Daphne on a couch, swinging an arm around her shoulders as he did so, a slight smile on present his face now that he had escaped the grasping clutches of the nobles and was in the presence of people he actually liked. "The King has now officially recognised House Albion's ownership of Harrenhal."

Daphne and Tracey smiled as they heard that, whilst Blaise gave grunt and a nod of acknowledgment.

"Well it doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of things, only that our presence there is now legal." Daphne spoke up. After all the Albion's had had a presence in Harrenhal for a while now, ever since Harry had first made his proposal to the Small council. In fact the basic wards were already in place and the repairs had already taking begun place. With the speed of the work being covered by a tailor made ward that created an illusion over the fortress. "Plus it means that we can move our building crews into the area as well as bring over a few Wizards and Witches from the Herbology Guild to begin to organize work on the agricultural lands.

"Yes, though to begin with I think we should set the building crews to putting up walls around the settlements on our new land and creating proper roads." Harry added in. "Tracey can you contact Padma and ask her to organize the development and takeover of Harrenhal?"

"Padma's gone to Dorne and is setting up an embassy there, in fact I heard from her today, apparently she is looking to begin negotiations for a potential alliance or a treaty." Daphne spoke up, her brow furrowed.

"Terry Boot then, we can pull him from Winterfell and leave the control of the North to Hannah, I mean her wedding to Robb Stark must be coming up." Harry replied his finger tapping on the arm of his seat as he thought.

"Terry has already been assigned to Oldtown and is working on copying and compiling the Master's library." Tracey said, "As for the wedding, there are no definite plans yet. Though we can ask Hannah to give Robb a push, though it will likely be expected for you or Ned Stark to be there, as Lord of your Houses. Though given the fact you're both in King's Landing your absence could be ignored. Still I can still ask her to push the date forward."

"Give her the push, the sooner our control over the North is locked down the better" Harry said his brow furrowed in thought, before he turned to Daphne, "Also since when was Terry reassigned?"

"He was getting restless in Winterfell and contacted me a few weeks ago, I made the executive decision to move him." Daphne replied with a shrug. "I must have forgotten to mention it."

Harry nodded at that. "Ok then who can we put in charge of Harrenhal? Nev is beyond the Wall, we are all here and everyone else in the inner circle have duties elsewhere."

"I can do it." Blaise suddenly spoke up. "I can take over the operation and management of Harrenhal for now."

"What? Really? You want to do it?" Harry said in surprise, genuinely taken aback as usually Blaise hated management positions.

"Yeah, I think I need a bit of a breather after my latest mission." Blaise replied with a nod. "I can set my team to using Transfiguration to fortify the defenses and speed up the building process. Plus they can start processing the tenants of Harrenhal's lands so that they can sign the loyalty contracts."

"Ok, if that's what you want." Harry said with a nod, knowing that he could trust Blaise implicitly, before he turned to Tracey. "Can you pass this on to the rest of the inner circle? You know keep them updated of the situation."

Tracey nodded as she heard that. "Right, I will also put in an order to Fred and George and have them ship a batch of golems over to Harrenhal, though we may also need to draft some of the commonfolk into our ranks to build up the garrison there as we only have so many golems."

"Sort out the golems first, we can talk about conscripting the commonfolk later. For now we should focus on the wards, defenses and our elite forces." Harry said, before he paused. "Also when you pass along the message, I want you to organize a time for when we can have a full meeting. We may need to redistribute some responsibilities, or even put our plans for Dorne on hold until we have fully established ourselves in the Vale and the Riverlands."

"I'll get on that." Tracey said with a nod of her head, "We'll also need to send someone to Vale. It might be useful to have Lysa Arryn on a shorter leash, the woman's unstable from what I've heard. That or we could organize a sham marriage for Robyn Arryn and do to Lysa what we did to Baelish so we control both the heir and the regent."

"Yes I was thinking, Seamus and Katie Bell are trying for a baby, we can arrange a sham marriage between Katie and Robyn Arryn, with Seamus being Katie's head guard. After Seamus and Katie have their first child we can dispose of Robyn Arryn and have their baby be the new Lord of the Vale with Katie as Regent." Harry spoke up, voice an idea he and Daphne had been toying around with for the last few days. Though Harry would likely need to consult with Katie and Seamus, along with the rest of the Order before anything happened.

"That's devious…" Tracey said, her voice coming-out almost like a purr. "I love it! Even so I think in the short term we need to use Baelish to get into the Vale and strength our influence there."

"Agreed. Do you think you can you deal with that?" Harry said as he looked around. "Or are you too busy here?"

"The spy network is easily managed, nowadays I have a hands off approach. As for here in King's Landing, with you Daphne and Fleur here I think we are covered. I could temporarily relocate to the Vale for a couple of months without issue, though I'll be taking some golems with me if I have to." Tracey replied, swilling a glass of wine around in her hand as she did so.

"That can be arranged, though I did just lend out a hundred of them to the City Watch, but that's only for the tournament in a few days." Harry replied.

"Why did you do that?" Blaise asked in confusion.

"Most likely to try and score points with the court or with the commoners." Daphne replied with a shrug, sending Harry a smile as she did so. "But as you say the tournament will be over in a couple of days so it shouldn't matter."

"I'll aim to leave straight after the tournament then." Tracey said biting her lip a bit as she began to think. "It'll take me a few days to make my preparations, plus I need to do the other things you wanted me to do."

"That's fair enough," Harry nodded, before he looked at Blaise. "Could you head to Harrenhal for around that time too?"

"I'll speak to my men and get them to start making preparations, they're back on the Iron Islands for now, but I told them to be ready to go out again soon." Blaise replied with a nod.

"Good," Harry smiled, before a sudden thought occurred to him. "Oh, by the way how did your mission in Essos go?"

A grim looked spread across what little of Blaise's face was visible as he heard that.

Harry was instantly on edge as he saw that look. After all Blaise was his loyal right hand and one of the most deadly fighters in the Order. Looking at him now Harry could tell something was bothering him. "What's happened?"

Blaise clicked his teeth as he heard that, before sighing. "Our assassination squad was too late, by the time we had arrived someone had already killed the Red Witch, or should I say finished her off, after all Dean didn't go down without a fight."

The other three nodded grimly at that, all of them having come to the conclusion that their comrade had fallen.

"What happened to the horde then? Did the Dothraki disperse?" Harry asked, shifting in his seat as he moved forwards.

"No, Viserys Targaryen took over command, apparently the witch had been teaching the dragon brats her fel magic. Either way the boy had managed to hold the horde together." Blaise replied his tone rough and his hands clenched into fists. "So we went with Plan B."

"Total annihilation." Harry muttered his brow furrowed as he realised what Blaise meant. "Fiendfyre?"

"Yeah, I had my men surround the camp and unleash Fiendfyre on the enemy encampment at the same time." Blaise said grimly, his clenched fist shaking slightly. "More than sixty thousand Dothraki dead, nearly the whole horde."

"Nearly?" Daphne asked, deciding to be pragmatic as opposed to agonizing over the fiery deaths of thousands of strangers. That's not to say that she didn't feel anything after hearing about their fate though.

"Yeah, there was a gap in our formation. One of my men almost lost his nerve so I had him stay where I could keep an eye on him." Blaise grunted, thinking back to how he had Winston stay with him, which left a large segment of land fire free. Or at least fire free for a time before the cursed fire spread across the grass sea. Still the fact that one of the twelve was out of position had meant that there was an opening, one which could have been used to escape.

"You think someone escaped." Harry asked grimly, pushing aside the horror of Blaise's actions. Justifying them to himself that the sixty thousand Dothraki murderers and rapers had been killed to ensure the peace for Westeros and its millions of residents, including Harry's family.

"Yes." Blaise replied bluntly. "I hadn't thought about it at the time, but a gap in the formation could have allowed for some of the Dothraki to escape."

"I take it you have more than assumptions." Tracey spoke up, the Slytherin not at all as perturbed as the others as she ignored the destruction Blaise had wrought in favour of a more logical take on things.

"Yes, I had my men use brooms to scout the area, and they managed to find tracks leading away from the destroyed encampment. It took us days but we never found the source, the winds covered the tracks before we could track down the source." Blaise replied grimly, more frustrated over this mistake than anything else.

Harry clicked his teeth as he heard that, before shaking his head. "It doesn't matter for now, the Dothraki horde has been destroyed and the immediate threat is gone."

"What happens if one of the Targaryen's escaped?" Daphne asked, deciding to play Devil's advocate as she turned to give Harry a searching look.

"Then we'll take a more mundane approach." Harry said his fingers beginning to drum on the arm of the couch.

"Oh?" Daphne queried.

"I will pass the information on what has happened to Robert Baratheon, blaming the destruction on the Red Priestess. I will also make clear that my spies have found out that the Targaryen's survived the fire. Robert's hatred of their family will have him expending as much resources as he can to track them down and kill them, especially once I tell him how close to invading Westeros they were. Knowing Robert he will have Varys use his spy network to find them and if he does then he'll send his assassins, we need do no more." Harry replied, satisfied with his decision. After all passing on this information before Varys will gain him favour with the King, plus he can point the finger at the followers of Lord of Light as the culprits behind the death and destruction.

"Would it not be better to try and find them ourselves, if they are alive that is." Daphne suddenly said, her eyebrow cocked as she looked at Harry.

"I don't follow…" Harry asked in confusion, not really sure what the benefit would be.

"If we can get one or other of them under control then they could make useful tools, or distractions." Daphne said.

"We already have a plan." Harry said bluntly before pausing as he saw the frown pass across Daphne's face. "Though a backup plan could be useful."

Tracey snorted as she saw this. "So we adopt a wait and see approach then."

Sending Tracey the stink eye Harry nodded his head. "Yes, for now we will suspend our none trade based operations in Essos, at least until we have better established ourselves here in Westeros."

The other three nodded at that.

Smiling Harry leant back in his seat. "Ok so that's the heavy stuff out of the way. By the way, where's Fleur?"

"She's with Margery Tyrrell," Daphne replied with a smirk.

Harry cocked an eyebrow at that. "Ahh the mysterious Margery, I've still not met the girl."

"Well you should, she's a sweet girl, and she's in King's Landing now for the Hand's Tournament." Daphne said with a light shrug.

"Hmm, I suppose I will." Harry responded nonchalantly.

"By the way is anyone representing House Albion in the tournament?" Daphne asked as she looked between Harry and Blaise.

"I didn't plan on it." Harry said before looking over at Blaise, who didn't look to keen on show fighting either. "I think we'll probably just watch with the other nobles."

Daphne nodded at that, before pausing. "Well in that case I think I'll miss the tournament and head back to the Iron Islands, it's been too long since I last saw James."

Harry paused as he heard that Daphne was going to visit their son, before a faint smile spread across his face. "I think I'll join you then, for as long as I can at least."

Daphne smiled softly as she heard that. "Well come on then, I take it you can keep an eye on things in King's Landing for now Tracey?"

Tracey grunted in response. "Yeah, I'll keep an eye on things and keep you updated while you're off seeing the munchling. I'll mention to Fleur where've you gone in case she wants to join you."

Harry and Daphne nodded as they heard that, the two of them standing up as they did so.

"Though do remember Harry, due to your positon you can't be gone for too long. Your absence will be noted if you do." Tracey added on as she lounged back in her seat and sipped her wine.

Harry nodded as he heard that, but otherwise didn't reply as he and Daphne left the room. Both of them getting ready for a short excursion back to the Iron Islands to see their son.

 **( - )**

 **(In the Red Keep, with Cersei Lannister)**

Cersei Lannister was currently sat in her champers, a goblet of wine in one hand, and a quill in the other. At the moment she was just finishing off one of the many letters that she had sent to her father, Tywin, over the last few weeks. With this letter just like the others detailing/ complaining about the current issues that were arising in the capital due to the presence of Harry Albion and Ned Stark.

With the main issue being the waning influence that House Lannister was having at court, a fact made worse by the fact that the Lord of House Lannister, Tywin, was currently at Casterly Rock and not in the capital.

Ever since she had returned from her trip to Winterfell, Cersei had noticed the gradual declining power that the Lannister had, as the nobles flocked to the growing power that was House Albion, or grew a back bone now that Ned Stark had been made Hand of the King.

Of course Cersei had attempted to remedy this herself, with her using her limited spy network to try and infiltrate the Albion's powerbase in King's Landing, the Street of Silk. Not that she had had much luck as her spies either got nothing or disappeared. The Lannister's man on the Small Council was just as useless, as the only useful information Pycelle had brought her was of Harry Albion's ludicrous proposal to effectively pay off the Crown's debt in return for Lordship of Harrenhal.

Which for the Lannister's was doubly bad as it meant that the money they loaned the King would now be paid off, which reduced their leverage of the Crown, as well as which Harrenhal, perhaps the greatest symbol of status in Westeros was now in the hands of their enemies.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Cersei threw down her quill and instead focused on her goblet of wine, taking a large sip as she closed her eyes and tried to wish her problems away.

In fact the only good thing that had happened of late was that her odious little brother, Tyrion was still somewhere up North. Not that Cersei believed the vile little worm would stay up there. No, a part of her knew he was likely already making his way back to the capital. It was just a pity she thought, a pity he hadn't fallen off the Wall and died….

As she was thinking this she heard someone shuffling into the room. Opening her eyes she saw the stooped figure of Pycelle, the wizened old man hobbling into the room and making a great show of his infirmity as he did so.

"My Queen." Pycelle muttered, giving a low bow to the Queen as he approached her.

"Pycelle." Cersei replied coldly, placing her goblet down on the desk in front of her as she instead focused on the old man, "What is it?"

"It's about Lord Stark." Pycelle replied as he came to a stop just in front of Cersei.

"What about him?" Cersei asked as she picked up her goblet and took a sip from it, a part of her suspecting that yet another thing had gone wrong. After all Ned Stark was already making waves since he had arrived, the overzealous Lord having started by clamping down on the incompetence and corruption in the capital, both of which were some of Cersei's preferred tools when it came to her manipulations.

"He's enquired about the book." The Grand Maester replied, wringing his hands nervously as he did so.

"What book?" Cersei said, frowning in confusion as she heard that.

"The very same book Jon Arryn enquired about before he met his unfortunate end." Pycelle said as he gave a small bow of the head once more, his voice wavering in worry as he looked around at his surroundings.

Cersei froze as she heard that, a part of her filled with worry of what the northern Lord would find. "How much does he know?"

"He knows there was foul play involved with Lord Arryn's death, just as he suspects that the reason was because he stumbled onto something he shouldn't have." Pycelle replied.

Cersei frowned as she heard that. Ned Stark was nothing if not tenacious, and a part of her knew she would not be able to dissuade him from his investigation, which of course meant that she might have to consider other alternatives. After all if Ned Stark found out her dirty little secret and told Robert, then Jamie, her children and herself would be killed.

This for Cersei was not an option, which of course meant she would have to find another way to deal with things if they came to a head. Which included finding out more about just what he was up to, which meant she may need to send some more spies Ned Stark's way, that or she could ingratiate herself with the young Sansa.

"Thank you Pycelle, you may go." Cersei replied, waving the Grand Maester off as she began to consider what she should do.

 **( - )**

 **(At the same time in Essos)**

In the area of Essos known as the Red Wastes, a vast and arid desert, a small column of horse riders and a few rickety wagons were slowly making their way through the desolate landscape. In total the group numbered less than one hundred, and was made up of a mix of men, women and children, all of whom were clearly Dothraki, what with their horsehide clothing, tanned skin and black hair and eyes. All accept the leader of the group of course, who stuck out due to her exotic appearance, what with her having pale skin, flashing violet eyes and silvery blonde hair.

Leading the group at the front of the column and mounted on a beautiful, if tired looking stallion, was an attractive white haired woman, who at present had wrapped herself up in a makeshift shawl to protect herself from the blistering sun and the harsh winds.

This woman was Daenerys Targaryen, last surviving member of House Targaryen, a devout follower of the Lord of Light and the self-proclaimed Queen of Westeros. Not that she was looking very queenly at the moment as she led her small retinue, the last remnants of a once vast Dothraki horde, one that was now nothing but ash.

For Daenerys the fact she had managed to survive at all was a miracle, no doubt one that had been bestowed upon her by the Lord of Light, or at least that was what her deceased mentor Lady Clementine would have stated.

For Daenerys it had all happened so fast, as one minute her brother Viserys had usurped control of the Dothraki hoard and had proclaimed that he would use her, his sister, to rebuild their House, the next there had been a sudden roar, like that of a dragon, which was soon followed by shouting and screaming. The moment she had heard the commotion Daenerys had moved, using it as a distraction she had fled the tent with two baby dragons and mounted the first horse she could find, after which she had ridden away as fast as she could.

What happened next though was all a blur, as within minutes the encampment had been set aflame. With golden flames eating through tents, horses and people, the flames taking the shapes of roaring lions, hissing snakes and snarling dragons as it quickly and indiscriminately spread through the vast encampment. Not that Daenerys had taken the time to inspect it, as she had instead just fled as if the Dark One himself was nipping at her heels, fleeing both her brother and the fire.

Fortunately for Daenerys though the Lord of Light had obviously looked down on her with favour as there had been a gap in the sea of flames, one which had begun to narrow even as she rode through it. A number of other Dothraki having also seen the gap and followed her in her quest for escape.

Now nearly a week later Daenerys was still trying to piece together exactly what had happened, as it had all been a blur. Not that that was a priority at the moment. No, her priority at the moment was her survival, and the survival of her subjects and dragons. All of whom were making slow progress through the Red Wastes, hoping against hope that they would eventually come across a settlement or a city.

 **( - )**

 **(Beyond the wall, with Hagrid)**

Striding through the arctic like condition beyond the wall, the hulking figure of Hagrid continued to lead his scouting party through a dense and icy forest. Currently his party consisted of eight Centaurs, all of whom were wearing leather armour and were carrying bows and spears, as well as which there were also twelve golems. Large hulking constructs formed from rune inscribed, stone that had been animated with magic and clad in armour. With each of the six foot automatons wielding large swords in one hands and carrying wide shields in the other.

This was Hagrid's third foray into the wilderness beyond the fortified settlement of Hardhome, which by now was fully encircled by a transfigured stone walls, with a number of wards and rune cannon batteries adding to its defenses. On top of which they now had a rudimentary portal that connected them to the Iron Islands, though it was only possible for none living things to pass through at present, still it would be useful, especially when it came to sharing resources.

His previous two excursions into the wild lands beyond the Wall had born little in the way of results, but both of those times he hadn't strayed far from the base. This time though he was ranging much further afield, hoping to come across some new kind of creature, maybe even a Westerosi giant. After all he had heard that beings like that existed and a part of him really wanted to meet one so he could compare the giants of his world to the giants of this one.

Currently though as with his last two journeys this one was not turning up much. That's not to say the entire expedition had been a failure though, as Neville's group had had a bit more luck with their research. Neville having found that the ambient magic beyond the Wall was far more powerful than it was on the other side. Not that that meant much to wizards who drew on their own internal reserves to wield their magic, but it certainly affected the planting experiments that they'd been running, and helped the wards that were not connected to ward stones last longer.

Not that plants held much interest for Hagrid, no they were far too tame and too boring for the half-giant.

"There's movement up ahead!" Ariadne, one of the Centaurs in his party spoke up. The female Centaur gesturing up ahead, where if Hagrid squinted he could see a few barely visible figures flitting between the trees.

"Archers!" Ariadne called, the attractive, blonde haired Centaur taking command of the other Centaurs as they pulled the bows off their backs and knocked their arrows. The twelve of them shifting around, as they all turned their attention to the movement ahead, with some of them also checking the group's flanks and rear for a potential ambush.

"Hold!" Hagrid commanded, his dark eyes narrowed as he unslung his giant crossbow from his back and loaded a bolt. His beetle black eyes scanning his surroundings, before he turned his attention to the stationary golems, that hadn't reacted to any of the commotion. "You golems, form a shield wall in front of us!"

The armoured automatons automatically moved to obey, the constructs having been enchanted to obey simple instructions, like pieces on a Wizarding Chessboard, which incidentally was what the Weasley twins used as a base for their experiments.

Within a minute the armoured golems had moved to the front of the group, their shields raised and interlocking as they created a formidable wall of steal and stone in front of the group. The rest of the party making use of the shield wall as the Centaurs and Hagrid used their height to their advantage as they prepared to fire over the constructs. All of them waiting, as more potential enemies began to appear from the forest.

 **( - )**

 **AN: So what do you all think? A part of me is expecting to get mixed reactions. But in my mind I liked the way this chapter went.**

 **So anyway it now means Daenrys is wandering the desert alone, with no advisers and only two dragons. Suffice to say I've got some interesting things planned. That being said Daenrys like Jon is not a main character in this story. Still I've been reading a few reviews and messages and have got quite a few things I'm looking into in Essos and on the Stepstones. Should be fun.**

 **Other than that things are progressing and bits and pieces are starting to come together in Harry's plan. With things likely to progress even faster.**

 **Beyond the wall we also have a bit of potential conflict. Which I am very much looking forward to writing. The tournament will also be covered, though not in as greater detail as in canon or in other stories, for reasons which will come apparent.**

 **Still I will hopefully have more time to write soon. Though I can't say for definite when the next update will be, because real life is never all that predictable.**

 **Still though, thanks for reading and I hope you all leave a comment or review.**

 **See you all later.**

 **Seagate.**


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: So here is the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy the chapter. As with my other one, this chapter hasn't been betaed yet so there may be one or two mistakes that I missed in my proof read. That being said I am pretty happy with this chapter.**

 **Would love it if you leave some reviews.**

 **Hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

 **(Last Time)**

 _"_ _Archers!" Ariadne called, the attractive, blonde haired Centaur taking command of the other Centaurs as they pulled the bows off their backs and knocked their arrows. The twelve of them shifting around, as they all turned their attention to the movement ahead, with some of them also checking the group's flanks and rear for a potential ambush._

 _"_ _Hold!" Hagrid commanded, his dark eyes narrowed as he unslung his giant crossbow from his back and loaded a bolt. His beetle black eyes scanning his surroundings, before he turned his attention to the stationary golems, that hadn't reacted to any of the commotion. "You golems, form a shield wall in front of us!"_

 _The armoured automatons automatically moved to obey, the constructs having been enchanted to obey simple instructions, like pieces on a Wizarding Chessboard, which incidentally was what the Weasley twins used as a base for their experiments._

 _Within a minute the armoured golems had moved to the front of the group, their shields raised and interlocking as they created a formidable wall of steal and stone in front of the group. The rest of the party making use of the shield wall as the Centaurs and Hagrid used their height to their advantage as they prepared to fire over the constructs. All of them waiting, as more potential enemies began to appear from the forest._

 **( - )**

 **Chapter 21**

 **( - )**

 **(Beyond the Wall)**

"Hold the line!" Hagrid roared out as he raised his crossbow, looking down the sight at the men and women charging towards him. The large group looking to be dressed in little more than thick fur coats, and wielding a motley assortment of bronze and iron weapons, with a few of them even having bows.

Narrowing his eyes as they closed in, Hagrid estimated their number to be around three score. All of them spread out, acting more like skirmishers than a unit of warriors. In fact there appeared to be no order in the way they attacked, as they instead swarmed forwards on mass, likely hoping to overwhelm Hagrid's group through sheer numbers and ferocity. Though that might also have been because they had both been spotted, and because of the shock his groups appearance must have caused.

Letting out a deep breath, Hagrid's finger hovered over the trigger of his ballistae like crossbow. His eyes narrowing as he felt a gust of cold wintery air striking him in the face, a few of the specks getting caught up in his thick bushy beard.

"Hagrid, they're closing in." Ariadne, the leader of the Centaurs with him, said. Her stern voice clearly audible to Hagrid, despite the roaring of the charging wildlings. The blonde haired Centaur shifting about, her hooves making a crunching sound on the frozen ground. Her blue eyes looking to Hagrid, despite the fact she had an arrow nocked and her longbow drawn and ready to fire.

"Volley fire!" Hagrid shouted as he saw the wildlings were still charging forward, their weapons bared. With that said he pulled the trigger of his crossbow and released a bolt into the attackers, a bolt that was longer than a full grown man's arm springing forward and scything through two wildlings.

The bolt having struck the first wildling plumb in the chest. The sheer power behind the steel tipped bolt driving it through the man's ribcage and out the other side. The bolt still maintaining enough momentum to strike another wildling, running a few metres behind the first, in the stomach. The bolt folding the man in two as it punctured his stomach and ruptured his spleen.

As this was happening the Centaurs also released their arrows. The first volley falling amidst the charging wildlings. Ten of the fur clad savages being brought down with the first volley, the arrows finding their marks in throats, heads, and chests. The meagre protection the fur clothing gave the wildlings, meaning little to the steel, bodkin headed arrows the Centaurs were using.

"Again!" Ariadne shouted as the she and her brethren fluidly knocked and drew their arrows, none of them worried about the band of wildlings charging forward. None of whom slowed down, despite twelve of their number, a fifth of them over all being brought down on the first volley, the losses having likely not sunk in yet. "Nock, draw, loose!"

The Centaurs fired yet another volley, with this one bringing nine of the wildlings down. Whilst two of the other arrows struck their target, but in a none fatal spot, allowing them to continue forward, fueled by sheer adrenaline. The final arrow missed though, striking the trunk of a tree instead.

In response a half dozen of the wildlings loosed their own arrows, some of them finding their marks in the wall of golems. The bronze arrow heads glancing off of the golems steel armour. Which although mass produced and nowhere near the quality of the Goblin forged armour a number of the other magicals wore, it was still on a par with the finest castle forged steel.

As this was happening Hagrid had reset his crossbow, using a one handed leaver to pull it back using his strength. After that he had pulled out another bolt and armed the crossbow, before bringing it to bare on the wildlings once more.

Without a sound he pulled the trigger, the bolt tearing through the fifteen metres that now separated the wildlings from their positon. The bolt angling slightly downwards now as it struck one of the wildlings in the chest, tearing through his body before slamming into the frozen ground. Making it so the now dead wildlings was held aloft like a macabre scarecrow.

"Ready hand weapons!" Hagrid shouted as he slung his crossbow over his back, his hand instead going to the giant Goblin forged mace he had hanging from his hip. The giant feeling the weight of the weapon in his grip as he wielded it with a single dinner plate sized hand.

The Centaurs meanwhile had reacted differently, with six of them retreating, heading for slightly higher ground their bows still in hand as they prepared to continue their onslaught of arrows. Trusting in the wall of golems to keep a distinct separation between their group and the wildlings.

The other six however pulled out a mixture of swords and axes, their weapons having a slightly elongated handle so as to allow them to wield them with either two hands, or in such a way that they could reach a fallen enemy.

Within moments the wildlings struck the wall of golems, the large hulking structure taking a single step forward on impact. Knocking the wildlings backwards, and giving the golems an opening to bring their giant swords to bare. The wet sound of tearing flesh and the screams of some of the wildlings signifying that at least half a dozen had been killed on the first charge.

That's not to say some of the wildlings didn't put up a fight as one of them managed to thrust an iron greatsword through a golems guard, the blade scrapping along the automaton's armpit, damaging the mail and leaving a faint white line on the stone beneath. Of course the very same golem killed the wildling a moment later, its large blade almost cleaving his head in two.

Seeing that, and realising they were now almost down to half their number, the wildlings seemed to wise up to how outmatched they were. As without a single order they turned and fled. The arrows of the six Centaurs crashing down amongst them, bringing a further five more down.

Watching them break, Hagrid looked over to the grinning Ariadne. Noticing as he did that she looked like she was raring to go, the battlefury having descended on the usually composed Centaur. "Ariadne, take your team and give chase. I want to take one of them as a prisoner."

The blonde haired Centaur nodded at that, a fierce smile on her face as she leapt forward, five of her fellows following after her as she wove around the golems and began the pursuit. Her equine body allowing her to rapidly catch up to the fleeing wildlings, her eyes narrowed as she lashed out with her blade. Cutting the fleeing men and women down from behind. Her falchion sheering through their fur armour like a hot knife through butter.

Around her the rest of her kin also engaged the enemy. With a few of the wildlings being trampled underfoot. Whilst other were cut down from behind. A few of the wildlings though did manage to turn and put up a fight, but the sheer momentum the Centaurs had as they charged in was too much for an unmounted man to handle, and they were quickly brought down.

A couple of the remaining wildling archers also managed to also loose arrows. Unfortunately though, due to the speed on the Centaurs and the growing sense of panic, only one of them managed to hit their mark. A red haired, pale skinned woman, who's arrow managed to glance off Ariadne's flank. Drawing a slight trickle of blood, and a snarl from the female Centaur as she dashed forward. Ignoring the other wildlings for now as she closed in on the ginger woman.

Within moments, just as the red haired wildling was pulling back her bow, aiming for Ariadne's head, the Centaur reached her. Her sword lashing out and striking the woman in the side of the head, with the flat of the blade. The blow sending the woman crashing to the floor, a slight trickle of blood pouring out of one of her ears.

"I've captured a prisoner! Finish off the rest. We can't allow them to report back our presence. Not yet at least!" Ariadne called out as she leant down and pulled the human from the ground. A look of amusement on her face at how this girl had managed to hit her, even if it had been little more than a graze.

Listening to their leaders order the rest of the Centaurs charged on ahead. Chasing the remaining wildlings through the trees, their speed allowing them to swiftly catch up to, and cut down the last of their enemies, even those who surrendered. It was brutal yes, but it was necessary. If word of the magicals presence got back to some of the bigger wildling clans. Then it was possible that Hardhome would be assaulted. Which although not that concerning considering the defences in place, would certainly impede the expeditions research.

Turning and riding back to Hagrid, the red haired woman slumped unarmed and unconscious across her back. Ariadne couldn't help but grin as she saw how effective they were as a unit, three score wildlings dead or defeated, with only a slight graze to show for it.

 **( - )**

 **(On the Iron Islands, with Harry)**

A slight laugh escaped Harry's mouth as a pair of small, delicate hands gripped his ears. The culprit being a small child in Harry's arms, a young boy with twinkling green eyes and dirty blond hair. A slightly mischievous grin on the young child's face as he gripped his father's ears. A giggle of amusement leaving his mouth.

"Ah you blighter, you've got me!" Harry called out overdramatically, a large smile on his face as held his child, James, aloft.

More laughter left the boy's mouth at that. Before he let go of his father's ears and clapped his hands together in front of him.

Pulling the boy to him, Harry placed a light kiss on his son's forehead as he twirled him around. Delighting in his son's squeal of excitement.

"Careful Harry." Daphne called out, her blue eyes softer than he had ever seen them before, a beautiful smile also present on her face as watched the duo. Her silky blond hair tied back in a simple ponytail, and her clothing consisting of just a comfortable, cotton dress. "James is only young."

"I know, I know." Harry laughed as he held his son close. His eyes almost completely green now, with only the slightest flecks of red visible. His hair wilder than ever as he neglected to use magic to tame it whilst he was on his pseudo holiday.

Likewise he was only dressed in a pair of trousers and a baggy shirt. No armour, chainmail or leather. Just simple clothes worn for comfort.

"I get to hold him next." Fleur called out, her soft melodic voice getting another giggle from baby James as she glided forward. With Fleur being dressed as casually as the others. Not that it made her any less radiant, a smile prominent on her face as she scooped James up out of his father's arms and gazed into his warm green eyes.

Letting out another giggle James tried to grab a hold of Fleur's silvery hair, only for the part Veela to sweep most of it over her shoulder. The smile on her face broadening as she proceeded to lay a few soft kiss on the now pouting child's head. Garnering another squeal of delight as she did so. "He's so cute and cuddly!"

Daphne laughed as she heard that, the smile not leaving her face as she sidled closer to Harry. Allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulders, and lay a kiss on her cheek.

"Yeah, he's pretty great." Harry replied happily, delighting in the warmth of holding Daphne and the joy of just spending time with his little family. "Though I really do need to get him legitimized."

Daphne poked him in the ribs as she heard that. "You do, though considering the amount of pull we now have in the Capital that will be easy, we can get it sorted anytime we like."

Harry nodded at that. "True, I'm just a little worried about the stigma he might face."

Daphne sighed as she heard that, understanding where he was coming from. "I understand where you're coming from, but at the same time, marriage is a powerful political tool, and as the Lord of House Albion a marriage to you is a powerful bargaining chip."

Harry nodded as he heard that. "I know, but I'm still not too keen on the idea, even if it is to be a sham marriage."

"Man up." Daphne replied with a roll of her eyes another jab to Harry's ribs. "I'd rather you didn't marry some random woman, but we all have to make sacrifices. Either way both you and I know it won't change anything between us. We've gone through too much shi…, stuff, to allow a little thing like a sham marriage to get between us."

"And what about me?" Fleur asked in almost perfect English, with a tone of mock offence. An act that was somewhat ruined by the fact she had Daphne and Harry's infant son nuzzling into her neck.

"Well it's different with you." Daphne replied lamely.

Harry laughed as he heard that. It wasn't often Fleur managed to get one over on Daphne. Quickly though his lover fixed him with a sour look. "I mean Daphne's right, it's different with you. You're a part of the relationship, as oppose to an intruder."

"Oh you say the sweetest things." Fleur said dryly, a slight smirk on her face as she heard Harry's response. Before with a smile she looked down at James, "I just hope you don't take after him too much." She said to the child, a sweet smile on her face.

"Okay, that's a little harsh" Harry protested, as he heard Daphne snort with laughter and Fleur let out a soft chuckle. Even James let out a laugh of his own, though it was likely he didn't understand the joke.

"Hell, even the baby is against me," Harry protested.

Fleur let out another laugh at that, her smile not letting up as she looked down at the bundle of joy in her arms. Still smiling she then looked over to Harry, her smile turning slightly mischievous. "So when do I get one?"

Harry froze instantly when he heard that, a small trickle of sweat running down the back of his neck as he heard Daphne begin to laugh at his reaction.

 **( - )**

 **(Within the Council Room on Pyke, sometime later)**

"And so we are gathered once more." Harry intoned as he lounged back in his chair and survey the small group of magicals in the room. It had been a day or two since he had returned to the Iron Islands for his brief break, and in that time Tracey had done what he had asked and arranged for a full Council meeting.

A part of him wished he was back with Daphne, Fleur and James, just enjoying the day together. But another part of him also knew that this was necessary.

Currently all of them, like Harry, were sitting down in a circular ring of stone chairs. The chairs having been put in a circle to signify that officially, there was no single leader.

"You make it sound so serious." Daphne said dryly from where she was sat, a slight smile on her face as she looked around at all of her friends and comrades. The group containing a number of witches and wizards, as well as the leader of the Goblins and the leader of Centaurs. All of them were here, even Neville, Tracey, Hannah, Padma and Blaise, who had left their respective positons around the Seven Kingdoms and returned to the Pyke for the first full Council meeting in months.

"Yeah, still we don't do this as much as we should." Fred spoke up, a slight grin on his face as he looked around at the others.

"That's because most of us are busy." Padma replied, a faint smile on her face. Previously she had been in Dorne, enjoying the bright sunshine and the cool sea breezes of Sunstone, the Martel's seat of power. Despite that though she had come along after Tracey had sent out the request on behalf of Harry.

"Hey, we do things. I mean we've been mass producing those golems, and have gotten the portals and mirrors working." George protested.

"Yeah, and we've even been looking at some other cool stuff too." Fred tagged on.

"Yes, and your contributions are greatly appreciated." Tracey replied, rolling her eyes as she did so.

"Anyway," Harry spoke up, getting the attention of the rest of the room before it could descend into squabbling. "I've called this meeting so we can all get an update on what's been happening, and what our position is so far. As well as what we are looking to do in the future."

Everybody nodded as they heard that, most of them understanding that it would be useful to all be caught up on the detail. After all with so many projects going on, and with so many people having different responsibilities, often times everybody didn't have a clear view on what was happening. Which could lead to confusion, or unnecessary delays.

"Okay, so to begin with I want an update on what's happening in Dorne. Which due to its relative isolation is one of the few Kingdoms we don't have any real influence in yet." Harry began as he looked over to Padma Patil, who only recently had been posted to Dorne as an ambassador of sorts, with her having been sent with only a few golems and guardsmen.

"I've met with the leader of Dorne, Doran Martel, and have begun the negotiations for reduced taxation of our ships in Dornish ports, and a reduced tariff on the goods we trade there." Padma began, outlining what she had been doing so far. Not going into too much detail about purchasing a manse and setting up an embassy.

"Okay, and what do the Dornish want in return?" Harry asked.

"Reduced prices on the agricultural produce we sell in Dorne. Padma replied with a shrug. "I've already discussed it with the Herbology Guild and so far they are reporting a surplus of supply for the quarter. I mean they were planning on putting it on stasis to create a stockpile, but I thought using it to secure a trade agreement with Dorne would be more beneficial?"

"Try to haggle them down on the discount, but only put in a token effort. A trade agreement will be useful and it will set a strong foundation for further expansion into Dorne once we've cemented our positon in the Crownlands, the Vale, the North, the Riverlands and the Reach." Harry replied, his fingers drumming against the arm of his chair in thought.

"Also try and build our powerbase in Dorne. Court the attention of the other nobles and see whether there is any division we can work with. If you can find some dissatisfied nobles we can use that to further our influence." Daphne added on, meeting Padma's gaze as she did so.

"I'll look into it, but I'm not sure how much I'll find. After all the court in Dorne is nothing like King's Landing." Padma replied, a slight frown on her face as she thought about what she had learned of the generally relaxed and easy going Dornishmen and women she had met so far.

"Okay, what of Harrenhal Blaise? I know I only sent you there a few days ago but do you have anything to report?" Harry asked as he looked to Blaise.

Blaise clicked his tongue as he heard that. "The Goblins and the wizards that were already there have begun to rebuild the fortress. But with the sheer size of it and the damage done, it will likely take a month or so before it's complete."

With that said Blaise gave a nod of appreciation to Ragnar, the leader of the Goblins who tilted his own head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Other than that I've sent out my team and a few hundred of the Iron Islander to the settlements in our new lands. They've been making good progress in binding the populace to House Albion with the loyalty contracts." Blaise added on. "Though we'll need to setup a charm soon, similar to the one that used to cover Hogwarts. After all if someone not bound to us sees Harrenhal they may grow suspicious of how fast it is being rebuilt."

"We'll get on that as soon as we can, though I'm thinking instead of an illusion of a ruin we'll try and make it look like it's covered in scaffolding." George added in, a thoughtful look on his face as he considered how such a charm could be replicated.

"Whilst you're doing that I'll also make it so my girls and my spy network start to spread gossip on Harrenhal. You know telling people of the job prospects, the prosperity and the better life they could lead there. Hopefully it will soon cause an outward migration from King's Landing, easing up the stress on the Capital's infrastructure, reducing the growing sense of dissatisfaction and providing us with more resources at Harrenhal." Tracey added on, a slight smile on her face as she saw she had the rest of the room's attention.

"Okay that's good. But will you have time to sort that out. I was under the impression you were heading for the Vale in a few days?" Harry asked, a slight frown on his face.

"I am, I have Baelish arranging a ship to take us, and we'll probably leave the day after the tournament." Tracey replied easily, "Speaking of which with Baelish, a few of my girls and myself at the Vale for the foreseeable future, can Fleur take over my position and duties in King's Landing?"

"I can, though it I may need some help from Daphne." Fleur spoke up in slightly accented English, glancing over to Daphne as she did so, only to smile when she saw the blonde woman give her a nod.

"Good, and speaking of the Vale, have you managed to talk to Katie or Seamus about my proposition." Harry asked, before he glanced round the room and gave them a brief summary of what his proposition was. None of them batting an eye at the prospect of a sham marriage, and of the eventually replacement of the Arryn line with Seamus and Katie's bloodline.

"Yes, and although Katie is up for it, Seamus took a bit more convincing. Either way they are both onboard and will be coming with me to the Vale. Where Katie will be introduced as your cousin, and Seamus will be her guard." Tracey replied easily, having spent the last couple of days whilst Harry and Daphne were spending time with their son, sorting this out. "Of course I also had to tell Katie that she would need to use a spot of Transfiguration to appear younger than she was."

"And how did she take that?" Harry asked with a wince.

"With a surprising amount of grace, though she did nearly hex Seamus in the balls after he made a joke about it." Tracey replied a slight grin on her face now, a number of the other people in the room, Harry included, laughing at her comment.

Chuckling a bit, Harry then proceeded to clarify the timescale a bit. "When are you looking to arrange the marriage?"

"Well it'll take me about a month to get Lysa under control like Baelish, and probably another month to get the support of the other Lords of the Vale. So I'm hoping that by the third month I can announce the marriage, then it all depends on Seamus and Katie and when they become pregnant." Tracey answered with a shrug.

"Okay, I'll leave that to you then. Hopefully when the tournament finishes, you'll be able to take about a hundred golems with you." Harry said, giving Tracey a nod as he did so. "Also I'd suggest you set up a portal to the Iron Island in case you need reinforcements."

"Right, with that done, do you have an update on what's happening beyond the Wall, Neville?" Daphne spoke up once she had seen Harry had finished speak.

"Erm, yeah, a little." Neville replied a bit tiredly. "So far we've found the ambient magic beyond the wall is significantly stronger than it is here. Which of course makes it easier to grow magical plants. It also means that the wards we've setup don't need to be recharged as often. Other than that though we've not been able to find out much, Hagrid is out looking for some magical creatures at the moments, and after the meeting I'll be sending another team out to try and find some unique magical plants."

There was a couple of moments silence at that, as the different members of the inner circle considered this new information.

Soon enough though the silence was broken by Ragnar, the leader of the Goblins. Who with a slight sneer on his face turned to Neville, "So that's it? You've been out there for weeks and that's all you've found out."

Neville scowled as he heard that, looking more alert as he replied. "We've also set up a fortified base north of the Wall, and have found some iron ore deposits in the mountains around Hardhome"

"It seems to me like this whole expedition has been a waste of resources." Ragnar continued, the sneer on his face intensifying. "We should have held off on this foolish venture until we'd properly investigated the mountains around the Vale."

"This expedition is about more than finding mineral deposits. This is also about investigating the myths and legends surrounding the land beyond the Wall." Neville retort irritably, not pleased with having his accomplishments derided by a Goblin.

"And have you found any evidence of these myths and legends?" Ragnar growled, before forging on, not even waiting for a response. "Of course not, you're more interested in playing with plants."

"Ragnar enough!" Harry spoke up, his voice harsher than normal as he gave the Goblin a warning look. "What Neville has found out is damn useful. Now we can use the land at Hardhome to farm our magical plants far more easily than we can on the Iron Islands. Which in turn will allow us to more easily replenish our potion stock."

Ragnar scowled at that, but didn't answer.

"Moreover, once Tracey has secured our power in the Vale, you can then begin surveying the mountains ranges." Harry added on, giving the Goblin a little something to keep him happy.

Ragnar grunted at that, but eventually nodded his head.

"Good, now you said Hagrid is searching for magical creatures?" Harry asked, getting the topic back on the right track.

"Yeah he left a day ago. He was planning on going further than before, hoping to run into something. So far though I've not heard back from him." Neville replied, before he raised his hand and stifled a yawn.

"Keep me updated." Harry said in response, before a wry smile crossed his face. "By the way are you alright? You look a bit tired?"

"Yeah I'm fine, just a bit tired. I didn't get a goodnight's sleep last night." Neville replied, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he did so.

Harry smirked a little at that, whilst a couple of the others laughed. "Oh, did Yara keep you up late?"

Neville smiled tiredly at that, "Yeah it's been great to see her. Unfortunately though she didn't keep me up in a good way, it was mostly her shouting at me for being gone so long whilst she's pregnant."

There was a bit more laughter at that.

"Well I can always reassign someone else to take over your duties north of the Wall. Then you can stay here with Yara full time?" Harry asked, a slight smile on his face as he saw Neville go wide eyed.

"No, no I'm good!" Neville shouted out, waving his hands in front of him as he did so. "I mean I see and speak to her through the mirror every day!"

"But you were just telling us it was great to see her, and that she wants you around more" Daphne tagged on, a smirk on her face as she saw Neville's reaction.

"Yes but when I told her I was coming to the meeting today, she threw and axe at me…" Neville said bluntly, getting more laughter from those around him. "I think the baby might have made her crazy, or at least crazier than usual."

"It's the hormones man, I mean when Daphne was pregnant, she tried to hex my balls off more than a few times." Harry replied a slight grin on his face, before he froze as he felt said woman's gaze boring into him.

"I only did that because you called me fat!" Daphne protested, much to the amusement of those around her.

"No, you asked me whether you look fat and I merely said you were pleasantly plump…" Harry laughed, a smile on his face as he remembered those chaotic and sometimes frightening times.

"That's just as bad!" Daphne shouted, as she heard a chorus of "Ooos" from some of the assembled magicals.

"If we can get back on track." Tracey called out, hoping to bring some semblance of order back to the meeting before it degenerated into chaos.

Stifling a wide smile at Daphne's still affronted look, Harry nodded his head. "Tracey's right. Hannah do you have anything to report from Winterfell?"

Smirking as she looked around the room, enjoying the interactions going on around her, Hannah nodded. "I mentioned bringing forward the wedding to Robb. He was fully onboard and wanted it to happen as soon as possible. His mother though was a bit of a harder nut to crack, she thought it might be unseemly if we go ahead with the wedding without either Harry or Eddard Stark there."

"But she agreed in the end?" Harry queried, as he leant forward in his chair.

"She has sent a raven to Ned Stark to get his blessing, and I've already told her you've given me yours. Hopefully Ned agrees and we can arrange the marriage for a month or two from now." Hannah replied with a smile, the young woman actually feeling quite excited to be getting married. Especially because she found herself genuinely loving Robb Stark.

"Good, if you send out some invitations I'm sure many people will want to come and support you?" Harry replied with a smile, seeing the happiness in Hannah's face as he did so.

"Speaking of things like marriage." Tracey spoke up, getting the attention back on her as she did so. "I received a letter from Olenna Tyrell the other day, courtesy of her granddaughter."

"Oh, and what does she want?" Daphne asked curiously, having met the woman before, she having found herself liking Olenna, even if she knew the old woman was as conniving and manipulative as they came.

"Most of it was just about the benefits an alliance between House Tyrell and House Albion brought the two of us. But there was also a not so subtle comment about how we need to keep up our end of the bargain." Tracey replied, her gaze moving from Daphne to Harry.

Harry scowled as he heard that. He had never met the old woman personally. But even so he didn't appreciate being hurried or her impatience. Still though Daphne and Fleur, when they had visited Highgarden, had hashed out a very beneficial alliance with House Tyrell, one which included certain promises from House Albion. Ones that Harry would live up to. As no matter what anyone said or thought, Harry was a man of his word.

"Well then, that just means I'll have to escalate my plans in King's Landing. Which may mean abandoning subtlety and manipulation and dealing with things personally." Harry said, a frown on his face at the thought. Personally he preferred to keep his hands clean as much as possible when it came to these sorts of things. Unfortunately though, needs must.

"Not necessarily," Tracey spoke up, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I will still be in King's Landing for another day or two. I may be able to send Baelish out to point Ned Stark in the right direction. The rest though, the rest will be up to you."

Harry nodded at that, his gaze shifting over to Daphne as he did so.

 **( - )**

 **(A couple of days later in King's Landing)**

Ned Stark let out another sigh of irritation as he strode up to the doors of the Small Council meeting and entered the room. Things were already stressful enough as it was, what with the tournament beginning later today, however in spite of this that he had been summoned to the Small Council Chambers.

King's Landing was heaving at the moment with visitors both taking part and watching the tournament. And yet, despite all of this Robert demanded that a meeting of the Small Council take place this morning. Robert, who during the seventeen years he had ruled, had probably ever only turned up to two or three Small Council meetings.

Suffice to say Ned was stressed and pissed off, despite that though he dutifully walked to the Small Council Chambers, mentally preparing himself for whatever this meeting was about as he did so.

As he entered the room he immediately noticed that he was the last of the Councilors to arrive, the rest of them all patiently waiting for the Hand to arrive before they began. Also noticeably in the room, sat in the middle of the table was Robert, a disgruntled expression on his face as he drummed his fat fingers on tabletop impatiently. As well as the King, Ser Barristan Selmy was also present, with the white haired man wearing his full Kingsguard armour and standing just behind Robert.

Giving a brief bow to his friend, and the other Lords. Ned then took his seat at the table, choosing to sit beside Harry Albion. The dark haired Master of Ships looking particularly grim, as he sat upright in his chair. Dressed in a black leather jerkin and breeches, a thick golden chain around his neck and his long blade sheathed at his right hip.

"My Lords," Ned said slowly as he took his seat and looked round, noting the tense atmosphere as he did so, "What is the reason behind this urgent meeting?"

"Trouble in Essos Ned, apparently the Targaryen brats are as mad as their father." The King said grimly in response, the anger plain to see on his face. "Apparently they've been consorting with Red Priests, and more than that they're somehow behind the massacre of an entire Dohtraki Khalasar! On top of which they're also apparently planning to build an army, using their connections to those bloody fire fanatics so they can invade the Seven Kingdoms! Just think about it Ned, if they can destroy an entire Khalasar, forty thousand strong, burning them alive the sick fucks, what do you think they'll do when they arrive on the shores of Westeros!?"

Ned's eyes widened as he heard that. Trying to comprehend how such a thing could be possible. "How?"

"Apparently they've hatched dragons." Varys answered him, the bald eunuch looking a bit out of sorts as he glanced over at Harry Albion for a moment before continuing. "Lord Albion brought us the news of the attack, though my little birds in Essos were able to get more information. Apparently the Targaryen's, Daenerys and Viserys have been consorting with a High Priestess of R'Hllor, the Lady Clementine, who used her sorcery to hatch three dragons from what were previously considered petrified eggs."

Ned blinked again at that, still trying to comprehend how things in Essos could go so bad so fast. "Why is this the first we are hearing of this?"

"We can only pass on what we are told, fortunately my agents in Essos were able to find out what the Targaryen's and their Red Priestess had done relatively quickly. As for the business with the dragons, I cannot say, I'm not even sure how big they are." Harry spoke up, his tone calm as he looked around the room.

The Northman's eyes then went to Harry as he heard that, before he looked over to Robert, "Something will need to be done."

"You're damn right it will!" Robert snarled, a bit of spittle spattering onto the table in front of him at his exclamation. "Both the Targaryen brats and their dragons must die!"

Ned bit his lip as he heard that. A part of him wanting to protest, after all the two Targaryen's were still so young. Probably around the age of Ned's own children. However he couldn't deny the danger of what he had heard. However distasteful and unpleasant it may seem, for the safety of the realm they would need to die. "Very well."

"Good." Robert grunted, thankful that Ned didn't kick up a fuss. "Varys see to it that they are tracked down and killed."

"As you say my King." Varys replied, giving a slight bow to Robert. "Though this does raise the question of the other worshippers of the Red God, and how they will react when the news of the Targaryen's leaks out."

"Other worshippers?!" Robert demanded, a foul look on his face.

"I believe Varys is talking of your brother Stannis, who from what I have heard has destroyed the Septs on Dragonstone and has taken up with a Red Priestess." Harry said calmly.

"He's what!" Robert demanded, his loud voice echoing round the chamber. "When in seven hells did this happen!?"

"Some time ago your majesty." Varys said, bowing low. "It's been the talk of the court for a while now, but many believed it was harmless."

"I want him brought here immediately. See to it Ned, see to it he is brought back to the Capital, in chains, if necessary!" Robert shouted, once again slamming his fist on the table.

"I will see to it your majesty." Ned replied with a nod.

 **( - )**

 **(On the Narrow Sea)**

Closing her eyes, a red haired woman took a few moments to enjoy the feeling of the sea breeze blowing against her face. Smiling slightly Melisandre then opened her eyes, her dark eyes now looking out over the distant waters of the Narrow Sea, staring at the horizon, trying to see if she could see the distant shore of Essos yet.

She couldn't, they had only been at sea for a few days now, and it would be quite a while before they reached their destination. Despite that though she smiled, her gaze moving from the horizon and instead scanning the four dozen ships that made up their little armada. Each of them crewed by soldiers and sailors who she had swayed into the service of the Lord of Light, or who were loyal to Stannis Baratheon.

Looking to the prow of the ship she was on, she could see the lean figure of Stannis Baratheon, stood beside his confidant, the older and bearded Davos Seaworthy. The two of them currently engaged in some kind of discussion.

It hadn't taken her long to persuade Stannis of the necessity of this voyage, her power and influence having been growing over the last year and a half. With this including the visions that she was able to see in the flames, they were clearer now, and it was because of those visions that she had convinced Stannis to assemble his army and travel across the Narrow Sea.

Her rival, Clementine, was dead. Killed by her own hubris. Thoguh this brought Melisandre no pleasure, as despite being her rival, Clementine had been a loyal and powerful servant of the Lord of Light. Her loss was blow to their work.

Despite that though all was not lost. Melisandre had seen in the flames that Daenerys Targaryen was alive, as were two of her dragons. More than that she had seen the potential the girl held, the power she could already wield despite her tender age.

At the moment though she was alone in the Red Wastes, near the city of Qarth and the blue lipped charlatans that dwelled there. If Melisandre had anything to say about it though, she would not be alone for long. Clementine had had a plan, and it seemed Deanery's was going to try and see it through.

She would not be alone in this though, Melisandre and Stannis would soon meet up with her, and with her help the Targaryen Princess and the Azor Ahai would unite, and an army devoted to the Light would be forged, and the enemy would be defeated.

Melisandre's smile faltered at that thought. The enemy, it appeared that just as the followers of the Lord of Light were growing stronger, so to were the servants of the Dark One. Already things beyond the Wall were moving far faster than she thought they would. More than that though, there was a new threat. One that seemed to dwell in the very heart of Westeros.

Frowning at that thought, Melisandre looked away from Stannis and his right hand man, her gaze instead once more looking out to the horizon, this time the other way, in the direction of the Seven Kingdoms.

 **( - )**

 **AN: So what did you all think? There were several things covered in this chapter, but they were all necessary to set up what happens next… which you'll have to wait to find out.**

 **Anyway I hope you like the chapter, there is some major deviation from canon and some very important things mentioned in this chapter. Hope you picked up on them all. Also there was little bit of fluff to, just because I fancied writing it.**

 **Other than that I hope you leave a review.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **See you later.**

 **Seagate.**


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